


The Rise of Stella Gibson: Part 2

by SmokeMonsterSyd



Series: The Rise of Stella Gibson [2]
Category: The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, the stella gibson backstory no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 22,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeMonsterSyd/pseuds/SmokeMonsterSyd
Summary: The second part of The Rise of Stella Gibson series. This part takes Stella through her time at boarding school, where she meets someone who influences her character.





	1. Chapter 1

Stella could never tell whether flying was enjoyable. Some days it was fun, and other days she just couldn’t stand the idea of being trapped in a small space for so long. Today seems to be the latter.

 

She bites at her nail as she flips the page in her book, seeing the words but not really comprehending them. The cuts on her legs are starting to itch, and her legs twitch as her skin crawls. It’s a miracle her neighbor hasn’t reported her to the flight attendant for using some sort of drug. She reads on, gently patting her thighs, hoping that will relieve the pain, but finds herself rereading the same line over and over again instead. She finally closes her book with a thump and places it back in her carry-on, deciding that there was no point in pretending anymore, especially when all she can think about is the fact that she is now completely alone. But, she’s fine. She’s okay.

 

When the plane touches down, she makes her way out to the baggage claim and looks around. The exit doors are nearby, giving her a great view of the street full of cars and people. There are couples hugging and kissing, friends laughing together, families with matching luggage making their way to their cars. Stella swallows a lump in her throat, and trains her eyes back on the conveyor belt, waiting for her bags to appear.

 

After collecting her things, she finds a luggage cart and wheels them outside, finding the taxi stand outside by the door.

 

“Excuse me,” she says, politely.

 

“How can I help you, Miss?”

 

“I would like a cab, please.”

 

“Right away, miss,” he says and picks up his phone at his desk. After a few seconds he tells her that a few are already on their way, and they should be here any minute. She thanks the man and turns away, staring off into the distance as she contemplates her life.

 

He’s only been dead two and a half weeks, and so many things have changed. Her entire life has been turned so far upside down that she might as well be in another universe. Is this even real? She’s finding it hard to tell. This dissociation is numbing her body, and making her think destructive and spontaneous thoughts, but at least that’s better than the self-loathing.

She gently scratches at her thighs, almost as if the flesh is calling for her to finish her work.

A cab pulls up, and the driver quickly jumps out of the car, opening the back and helping Stella set her things inside.

 

“Where to, miss?”

 

“Harrogate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! okay, i know this part is going to look weird compared to the first part of this story. when i originally posted the first part on tumblr, i separated it into sections, and posted each section individually. For this part, the whole thing is super long, so i figured it would be easier to break it up into chapters. Some chapters/sections are longer than others. I hope you keep reading though! Thank you!!


	2. Chapter 2

Jace Praise Academy, at it’s finest point in years, had announced two years ago that girls would be allowed at their school. Upon hearing this information, Stella is positive her mother has been sitting on this idea for months, but knew she wouldn’t be able to force Stella into it while her father was still around.

 

_ Well, good, you got what you wanted, Mother _ , she thinks bitterly, as she pays her cabbie, and lugs her things up the front steps. The building is not as grand as she expected, but is still big enough to block out the sun at two o’clock in the afternoon, standing two stories tall and made with brick. She looks up briefly as she passes through the doors into the main foyer, noticing the crest just above the doorway. She clears her throat, lifts her chin, and stalks her way up to the front desk where a small woman is writing in a book. 

 

“Hello,” Stella greets, politely.

 

The woman looks up, slightly startled at first, then a beautifully excited smile lights up her face.

 

“You must be Stella Gibson,” she says, standing up and coming around from behind her desk, “Oh, that looks heavy. Let me find someone to help you.”

 

As the woman looks around the room for help, Stella opens her mouth to protest.

 

“Oh, no, really, It’s not--”

 

“Jack!! Come here, we need your arms for a moment,” she shouts.

 

A tall, muscular boy of about 16 looks around the room, startled, before briskly walking towards his caller. 

 

“What do you need, Miss Jen?” he says. Stella notices that he avoids looking at her. She holds back a small smirk as she looks him up and down. His pants seem to be a bit too tight, she can almost make out his thigh muscles, and his hair is dark brown to the point of almost being black. His face is angular at the chin, but the apples of his cheeks are plump and covered in freckles.

 

“This is a new student, Stella,” Miss Jen says, smiling at Stella briefly, “Can you help us take her things to her room?”

 

He nods silently, and holds out his arms in Stella’s direction, before finally meeting her eyes. His blue green eyes are the most beautiful color she thinks she’s ever seen. She gives him a smile and hands him two of her smaller bags as Miss Jen turns on her heel.

 

“Right this way, please.”

 

They make their way towards the stairs, the teens falling behind Miss Jen as she nearly sprints her way there. 

 

“Stella, you will be staying in room 216. Please let me know if you don’t have bedding or anything like that, I can have one of the older students take you out to get something,” she says, her voice jiggling as she makes her way up each stair. To Stella’s left, Jack is accidentally jostled by another student going down the stairs, almost dropping one of her bags.

 

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” she says, catching the bottom of her bag for Jack. 

 

“The last thing we would want is for you to not feel comfortable,” Miss Jen says over her shoulder.

 

Stella simply nods, and Jack sighs with relief as they come upon the final landing and take the next corner. 

 

They walk a few steps down a corridor before Miss Jen comes to a stop in front of a door with one small label on it that reads “Charlotte”. Stella notices that other doors are decorated with colorful pieces of paper, messages, pictures, but this one just says “Charlotte”. Jack shifts awkwardly as Miss Jen knocks on the door. She waits for a few seconds before slipping her key in the door and unlocking it. 

 

“This is your room, dear. I assume Charlotte is still in her classes, but you’ll meet her soon enough.”

 

Stella nods silently looking around the room as she places her bag on the floor. While the door may be bare, the room looks like she’s just stepped off a time machine and right into the heart of the seventies. There is a giant tie-dyed tapestry on the wall above the two beds, with peace signs, hearts, and music notes all over it. There are multicolored lights around the top border of the room, changing the white walls into a disco hall. One bed has a yellow duvet on it with a peace sign and many pillows piled on top of each other. The bed looks sloppily made, as if the girl was in a hurry but figured she should do it anyway. The other bed is bare and pitiful, begging for someone to give it a makeover. And to tie the whole look together, there is a purple shag rug in the center of the room, and clothes all over it. Stella wonders why someone so messy would even bother to take the time to make her bed, even if the job was sub-par. 

 

“Jack, stop dilly-dallying and get in here with the rest of Stella’s things.”

 

Stella turns to look back at the door where Jack stands nervously, contemplating whether he should come in or drop her things and run to the nearest hospital for his cootie shot. Stella raises an eyebrow in his direction and he makes his decision, stepping gingerly into the room and standing next to Stella. He sets the bags down next to her other two, and straightens out his back. 

 

“Thank you,” Stella says, with a small smile.

 

“My pleasure,” he says, returning her smile and leaving the room.

 

“Farewell, Jack!” Miss Jen yells after him before turning to Stella again.

 

“Here is your key, try not to lose it, it might be awhile before you get another one if you do. Lights out is at 2230 hours. Breakfast starts at 0700, lunch at 1200 hours, and supper at 1700 hours. And this is your class schedule.”

 

She hands Stella a thick stack of papers with a schedule on the top, and gently taps the top. 

Stella squints.

 

“What are the rest of these papers?” she says, perplexed.

 

“There are some assignments, school rules, supply lists, and a few more forms to fill out. All the due dates are at the top of each one. Any more questions, or concerns?” she asks, and smiles.

 

Stella waits a few seconds and lets all the information sink in, opening her mouth and then closing it immediately. 

 

“No, I think I’m alright.”

 

“If you have any final concerns, I’m sure Charlotte will be more than happy to help you,” she finishes, patting Stella on the shoulder. Stella nods, slipping her key into the back pocket of her pants and gently placing the papers on the empty desk. Miss Jen waves as she leaves, and closes the door behind her. 

 

Stella turns and stares down at her bags sitting innocently on the floor, and gives one a gentle kick. She looks at the stack of papers on her desk and swallows a lump quickly rising in her throat. She wonders if she could have ever predicted that her life would have gone so wrong, landing her here, in this stress pit of a situation, surrounded by strangers. She unzips one suitcase and pulls out her toiletry bag, placing it on desk with the stack of papers. She stares at the bag, biting her thumbnail in contemplation. Will she have time to clean the blood, or should she just wait until she takes a shower tonight?

 

She turns towards her other bags and starts unpacking. 


	3. Chapter 3

The door opens with a bang, startling Stella out of her impromptu nap. She holds the open book on her chest against her breast as she sits up and leans back against the wall. A girl walks into the room, angrily pulling her shirt over her head and muttering to herself in italian. Her long, black hair tumbles down her back between her muscular shoulder blades as she pulls her shirt off, her olive-toned skin standing out against the paleness of her bra. The girl has a long torso, her small waist accentuating her hips, and Stella cannot help but admire the roundness of her ass in her school regulation khaki shorts. 

 

_ This must be Charlotte _ , she thinks. 

 

Charlotte places her hands on her hips with a huff, as if the wall in front of her were giving her a curfew that she wasn’t happy about. She stands like this just for a moment, and Stella feels her frustration coming off in waves. She reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra as she turns around, and stops abruptly when she notices Stella. Her eyes go wide. They are big, deep brown and, to Stella’s surprise, slightly wet. Her lips are plump and shiny with lip gloss, parted slightly in a small ‘o’ shape. Stella wants to look down at the rest of her body, but decides it’s probably a better idea to just look at her face, not that she’s complaining. She’s beautiful.

Charlotte let’s out a small, nervous laugh.

 

“Um...hi,” she says with a smile, bending over to retrieve her shirt.

 

“Hello,” Stella says, and takes in a deep breath. She didn’t even realize she wasn’t breathing. 

 

She pulls her shirt back on over her head, and gives Stella a sheepish smile.

 

“Sorry about that, I’m uh...not used to having a roommate,” she says, approaching Stella’s bed and holding out her hand, “Charlotte.”

 

She cautiously takes her hand, feeling as if simply touching her would be violating her. Her fingers are soft, and her hands are just slightly bigger than Stella’s. They shake hands. 

 

“I’m Stella,” she says, softly. 

 

“When did you move in?” Charlotte asks, placing her hands on her hips again.

 

“Around midday, I think.”

 

She nods to herself looking away from Stella briefly, before surveying her from head to toe. If it were anyone else, Stella wouldn’t stand to be evaluated like a piece of meat, but something about this girl makes her heart race. She doesn’t mind it. She just sits still, hyper aware of her breathing, as she watches her eyes travel up and down her body. Charlotte finally meets Stella’s eyes, watching her watch Stella, and shakes her head, looking down with a small smile. She crosses her arms over her chest. 

 

“I’m sorry, but I just have to say, you’re very pretty,” she sighs. 

 

Stella’s heart stutters in her chest, and for a moment she can’t breathe.

 

“So are you,” she says, and swallows, as if she can take the words back. 

 

Charlotte meets her eyes briefly before chuckling and shakes her head again. She breaks eye contact and turns away, giggling as she decides to straighten up the room.

“Well, now that we got  _ that _ out of the way, where are you from, Stella?”

 

Stella tries to repress a smile. Her laugh seems to be infectious.

“London,” she replies, “And you?”

 

“I am from the beautiful land of Italia,” she says with a slight bow, and picks up a dirty shirt off the floor. 

 

“Why England, then?” Stella asks. 

 

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Not my decision. But I guess it’s because English is the only other language I’m fluent in, besides Italian,” she says, as she throws her shirt into a laundry basket that is already full. “I wanted to go to America, but my parents said, ‘Fuck that,’”.

 

She moves her hands and arms as she talk, fluttering from one corner of the room to the other like a hummingbird, explaining her life story all the while. 

 

“I was, sort of, getting into some trouble at home, and my grades were starting to drop, so my parents figured I needed a change. They also said that, here, I could ‘get cultured’, to which I responded ‘So sending me to a stuffy old town in England is supposed to culture me _ and  _ straighten me out?’, which they did not appreciate, but here I am anyway,” she finishes, with a shrug. 

 

“What about you, Stella? I’m sure there are plenty of schools in London, in which to ‘get cultured’ by their curriculum,” she chuckles.

“My mother also felt I needed a change,” she says, playing with her fingernails and hoping she won’t ask for anymore details.

 

“Ugh, it’s so stupid, you do pot once and drop one letter grade in a subject, and suddenly everyone thinks you’re throwing your life away,” she says, shaking her head, and over-handing another dirty shirt on top of her cloth mountain.

 

Stella nods as if agreeing, but suddenly wonders what exactly she has gotten herself into with this beautiful roommate of hers. After the initial wave of frustration, the hostility seems to have left her, and all Stella can feel is excitement. She’s not sure whether it's Charlotte’s or her own, but it’s energizing nonetheless. 

 

“Who was at the front desk today? Did they tell you about dinner and stuff?”

 

Stella shakes her head slightly, bringing her out of her thoughts. 

 

“Um… Miss Jen, I think?”

 

“Ahh, Jen,” Charlotte smiles, “she’s a good egg. Who did she force to carry your bags?”

 

“Some tall kid, named Jack.”

 

“Ooooohhh, is that why he couldn’t look at me after lunch?” she snickers. 

 

“Are you friends with him?”

 

“Pffft, no, not really,” she says, and pauses for a second, “The last time he was in here, we were having sex and almost got caught by our House Mother for the evening.”

 

Stella just nods, not quite sure what to do with that information. Charlotte surveys the room, her eyes falling on the stack of papers on Stella’s desk. She walks over on her toes, her head slightly cocked to the side. 

 

“Is this your schedule?” she asks, picking it up. 

 

“I believe so.”

 

“Oh goodie, you’re in most of my classes,” she says, throwing Stella a smile over her shoulder, “I’ll help you out with anything you need.”

 

“That’s very kind of you,” she responds, bashfully. 

 

“But first, you have to help me.”

 

Stella’s stomach drops. She knew this was too good to be true. She holds her head up and squeezes her thigh, ready for anything.

 

“With what?”

 

Charlotte turns around, and her face breaks into a smile.

 

“Dinner! I’m fucking starving,” she says, grabbing Stella’s hand and pulling her off the bed. Stella has no choice but to follow after her, but if she had a choice, she probably would have gone anyway. 


	4. Chapter 4

Charlotte holds Stella’s hand the entire way to the cafeteria, leading her down paths she’s never seen before. The campus between buildings is beautifully green, with lush trees and soft grass surrounding the walkways. Each building basically looks the same, made of the same bricks that make up the dormitories, but somehow Charlotte is able to tell the difference and lead Stella to the cafeteria. 

 

Taking her first step into the cafeteria is more nerve racking than Stella originally predicted, and she makes a small sigh. As Charlotte squeezes her fingers in her own, Stella wonders if she is also empathic, and can feel the anxiety on her finger tips. Charlotte makes a knowing smile, as if she could read Stella’s mind, and leads her towards the hot food line. 

 

People wave to Charlotte as they walk by and she smiles, seemingly ignoring the fact that Stella is even there. 

 

“You’re popular,” Stella comments.

 

Charlotte chuckles to herself. “I guess you could say that.”

 

Stella goes quiet and shovels food onto her plate. An odd feeling sweeps through her body, a feeling she’s not used to experiencing, that makes her want to hide in her room.

 

“When I first got here, I made it my mission to be in every club and activity because that’s what my parents wanted, and then after one term of that, I said fuck that,” she shrugs, “I guess people remember me from then.”

 

Stella just nods, suddenly not very hungry. She follows Charlotte to a table that is blissfully empty and sits down, Charlotte right next to her. 

 

She looks at Stella, her eyes squinted, as Stella avoids her gaze by staring at the wall. She moves as if to take up her field of vision and Stella looks over at her from the corner of her eye.

 

“Are you alright?” she asks.

 

Stella gives her a fake smile, but it’s small enough to be mistaken for a real one, as she contemplates where this feeling inside of her came from.

 

“I’m fine,” she says, and gently stabs at the food on her plate.

 

Charlotte gives her a skeptical look before taking a bite of her on food.


	5. Chapter 5

Charlotte leads Stella down the hall past the classrooms, arm in arm, and points out different things on the walls. 

 

“Our theater department is putting on The Crucible. So, if that’s what you’re into, auditions are this week,” she says, bumping against Stella’s shoulder.

 

She shakes her head, holding back a smile as Charlotte sighs. “You’re in my choir class though, how can you not be into theater?”

 

“Choir is the lesser of all the other ensemble evils.”

 

“Okay, but ensembles aren’t required, so you must be into it.”

 

Stella shrugs. “I used to play the violin. Played for nine years, actually.”

 

“Then why are you in choir?”

 

“I needed a change, I guess,” she says, quietly.

 

They walk a few feet in silence before Charlotte points out something else on the wall.

 

“Our school paper is always looking for writers and other staff,” she says, raising her eyebrows.

 

Stella shakes her head. It’s become a game now, Charlotte mentions something and looks to Stella for a confirmation whether she likes it or not. 

 

“Okay...sports?” she says, pulling Stella a little further down the hall.

 

“Mmm, warmer.”

 

“Oh! Good, okay,”Charlotte bites her lip excitedly, and looks at the team pictures. “Um...tennis?”

 

Stella shakes her head, smirking.

 

“Track?”

 

Another no.

 

“Horse-riding.”

 

“Horse-riding?”

 

“Shut up, I don’t know what it’s called.”

 

“Equestria, and no.”

 

She shakes her head and huffs, placing her hands on her hips, and pouts. “I give up.”

 

Stella licks her lips and holds back a smile. “I used to swim.”

 

She covers her face with her hands. “I totally forgot about swim team!”

 

“You were doing very well with the guessing, though,” Stella chuckles.

 

They link arms again and walk further down the hall, checking out the pictures until they reach some older photographs. Stella looks at the boy’s soccer team of 1952, studying each of their faces. She wonders where these men are now, and what they are doing. Stella wonders if they are successful, or broken, like she feels.

 

“Hey, Stella, look at this boy,” she says, pointing to a handsome young man with sandy blonde hair in the front row of another photo. 

 

“Isn’t he hot?” Charlotte asks.

 

“Mmm,” Stella responds, nodding slightly, studying his tiny face.

 

“‘John Scot Gibson, the Fourth’. Wow, that is quite a title, I wonder what he’s up to these days,” she says, chuckling. 

 

Stella freezes in her tracks, doing a double take on the boy’s face. He has her father’s jaw line, but none of the lines or grey hair. He’s absolutely beautiful. She reaches out and strokes his face as sudden tears spring to her eyes. She almost whispers his name, but swallows her words and her tears. 

 

“You wanna start heading back? I’m getting kinda bored.”

 

Stella nods, quickly wiping away any tears that may have fallen, and links her arm back with Charlotte’s as they make their way across campus. Charlotte gently elbows her in the ribs to get her attention. 

 

“Why do you have so many things that you ‘used to do’ but nothing you actually do?”

 

“I just lost interest,” she says, and it’s not a complete lie, “Part of why I’m here.”

 

Charlotte smiles sadly. “I hope you find interest in something this year, then.”


	6. Chapter 6

Stella walks carefully down the hall, her towel wrapped tightly around her wet body and gripped between her fingers. She walks quickly, hoping her towel is long enough to cover her thighs as she moves. She pushes open the door and quickly closes it behind her. 

 

“How were the showers?” Charlotte asks. She’s sitting at her desk, her back to Stella.

 

“They were decent, cleaner than I expected,” she says, walking toward her closet. 

 

Charlotte turns around, smiling, but as soon as she sees Stella, the smile is gone. 

 

“Oh, my god. Stella, you’re bleeding,” she says, jumping up and grabbing tissues out of the box.

 

“Wha-”

 

“You have blood running down your leg,” she repeats, kneeling down to wipe the blood off the side of her knee. “Do you need a tampon or something?”

 

Stella’s breathing becomes a bit shallow. “No, it’s okay, I probably just cut myself shaving,” she mumbles.

 

Charlotte looks up at her, her eyes wide. Her hands have traveled up her leg, each one planted on either side of her thigh, one hand to steady herself, the other to wipe the blood.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Stella lays her hand on top of Charlotte’s, stopping her from pushing her towel aside.

 

“Charlotte, I’m fine,” she says, and gives her a small smile, “Really.”

 

Reluctantly, Charlotte hands her the bloody tissues, and watches as she tucks one of them against her thigh under the towel. 

 

“Do you need anything? A plaster?” she asks, worriedly.

 

Stella grabs a pair of pants from her closet, and cocks her head to the side in thought. 

 

“A plaster, yeah, sure.”

 

Stella stands still as she listens to Charlotte rummage around in her desk drawer. She turns around when she hears the drawer close, noticing for the first time that she had changed her clothes. She is wearing a tight skirt, and a neon green netted crop top over a bra, and she has redone her makeup in neon colors. Her hips sway as she approaches Stella, and Stella swallows loudly. She stands in front of her and hands her the plaster. 

 

“Thank you,” she says.

  
Charlotte smiles and turns back around to sit on her bed. 

 

“Why are you all dressed up?” Stella asks, carefully rolling the sticky material onto her freshest cut. Stella watches her shrug from the corner of her eye. 

 

“I got invited to a party a few days ago, and I agreed to go,” she says.

 

Stella nods, the feeling from dinner coming back. She suddenly realizes it’s jealousy, the little green monster, and mentally scolds herself.  _ Not everything is about you, Stella _ . 

 

“I’m not sure if they would want me to bring a plus one,” she says, quickly, “or I would have asked you to come. Trust me, I wish you were coming.”

 

Stella pulls on her pants and her shirt, hanging up her towel and avoiding her gaze. “It’s okay, I understand.”

 

Charlotte walks over to her and lays her hand on her elbow, pulling her slightly closer ever so gently. Her brown eyes meet Stella’s baby blues.

 

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” she asks, and her voice sounds a bit sad. 

 

Her heart melts, although the jealousy still lingers around her guilt. She didn’t want her to feel bad about Stella’s mood, considering she wasn’t even sure what she was jealous about. 

 

She smiles and shakes her head. “No, I’m not mad,” she murmurs. 

 

Charlotte smiles back at her. “Next time, I’ll take you no matter what anyone says. I promise.”

 

Stella rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Okay.”

 

Charlotte grabs her purse off her desk and quickly kisses Stella on the cheek before bounding out the door with a small wave. 


	7. Chapter 7

She wonders what it’s like to be dead. She wonders what was going through her father’s mind when he decided that it was a better option than living. She wonders if there was anything she could have said to make him stay, maybe just a bit longer, maybe until she was in university. She squeezes her thighs under the blankets, practically digging her nails into the scabs of her older wounds, and shudders at the feeling. She thinks about Charlotte, beautiful, popular, Charlotte. She’s only known her for a day, but from what she’s seen, she is the type of girl that everyone loves. The type of girl who shows up to parties because it would be labeled as lame if she didn’t make an appearance. The type of girl that has everyone worshipping the ground she walks on, Stella included. The type of girl who could have anyone she wanted, and Stella is stunned to realize she’s upset because she’s positive she would make the bottom of that list. And she hates it. 

 

The tears from earlier come back full force, and here, in her room, blissfully and sadly empty at 2 a.m., she allows herself to cry. She breaks down, sobbing, tears soaking her hair and pillow, shaking her body even as she covers herself with more blankets. While she pities herself, she also wants to stop.  _ Grow up, Stella, stop pitying yourself, you’re acting like a child _ . 

 

Just as she’s about to leave her bed with her weapon of choice and drain some of the life from her body, the door opens quietly, casting the shadow of a body on the floor from the light in the doorway. She bites her cheek to quiet her sobbing, hoping Charlotte didn’t, and won’t, hear her. 

She hears her pad softly into the room as the door creaks closed behind her. She hears a soft thump as she puts her bag down on the floor, and the rustling of clothing against skin. She sniffs softly, but Charlotte pauses anyway. 

 

“Stella?” she whispers.

 

She holds her breath and rubs her nose on her shirt sleeve.

 

“Did I wake you?” she ask, slightly louder. She knows she’s not asleep.

 

“No,” she murmurs.

 

She feels the bed dip behind her and cold air hits her butt as Charlotte lifts the covers and climbs in under them. If it were anyone else, Stella would be outraged, but something about the darkness and her emotions makes her happy that she is doing this. That in this moment, she’s choosing her. Charlotte wraps an arm around her waist and Stella can feel her breath against her neck. She can smell it too, and it’s riddled with alcohol.

 

“Why are you awake?” she whispers in her ear. Stella shivers involuntarily. 

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she murmurs.

 

“Mmmm.”

 

She presses her face into her shoulder and slides her hand up under Stella’s shirt, and Stella gasps as her warm fingers caress the skin of her stomach. A voice in the back of Stella’s mind tells her that she shouldn’t be enjoying this, or letting it happen, but Charlotte’s breasts pressed against her back makes her feel oddly safe. 

 

Suddenly, she’s able to do what she couldn’t do four hours ago. She falls asleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

“Poetry. Does anyone know the elements of poetry? Anyone? Anyone?”

 

When the teacher isn’t looking, Stella trains her eyes around the room. There are a total of seven girls, including Stella and Charlotte, in a class of 26 students. The girls are strategically spread out among the boys, as if placed where they are to keep them in line, like bouncers at a club. Stella, the latest member of the class, is in the back, to her disappointment. Charlotte occasionally throws her a smirk and a wave over her shoulder from the middle of the class. The boys on either side of her turn back as well and blush, immediately turning back when they realize she can see them. One of them is Jack, the boy that helped her when she moved in yesterday. 

 

The teacher talks and writes on the chalkboard, and Stella tries her hardest to pay attention, but it’s difficult when she feels Charlotte’s eyes on her. She feels as if she is the most important thing to her in that room for those few seconds, and Stella is overwhelmed with warmth, a sun bursting in her chest. She chews on her thumbnail and trains her eyes back to the front of the room. 

 

“Okay, how about...you? In the back. Tell me something about poetry,” the teacher says, pointing at Stella. 

 

Her spine snaps to attention, and the entire room turns to look at the new girl, and watch her struggle. She looks from face to face before finally addressing the teacher. 

 

“Um…” she swallows, “What specifically?”

 

He shrugs, caught off guard by the question. “Give me one type that isn’t freestyle.”

 

She licks her lips and takes a breath. “A limerick.”

 

“Good,” he says, nodding, “So, now, tell me the difference between, say, a limerick and a haiku.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s a fair question, considering their many differences,” she says.

 

“Humor me,” he says, with a shrug, “Maybe give me  _ one _ difference.”

 

Stella plays with her fingers as she thinks, avoiding Charlotte’s gaze and her amused smile. 

 

“Haikus are defined by their syllable structure. Limericks are defined by their rhyming pattern. They both have a rigid structure, but you can be slightly more flexible with a limerick than a haiku.”

 

He nods before turning back to the board. “That is correct. What’s your name?”

 

She looks to Charlotte for help, wondering if she is walking right into a trap. “Stella.”

 

“Welcome to Praise, Stella.”

 

Charlotte shrugs before turning back to the front of the room, where the professor has decided to continue his lesson. 

 

“Alright folks, you’re homework for the weekend, write a poem, then next week, we will read them in class. The poem can be freestyle, a limerick, a haiku, I do not care, but if you do something with structure, you better follow the structure,” he says, just as the bell rings for dismissal. Everyone gathers their things and stapedes out through the narrow door way. 

 

Charlotte picks up her bag and makes her way to the back, standing next to Stella’s desk as she packs up her things.

 

“So, what will your poem be about?” she says, smiling. 

 

Stella eyes her, holding back a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

 

They walk down the hall, arm in arm. Stella can feel hundreds of eyes on her, and normally that would distress her. With Charlotte by her side, however, she likes to think all eyes are only on her. 

 

“If you don’t have an idea, that’s okay, not everyone can be immediately creative,” she grins.

 

“Okay, then what are you going to write about?” she volleys back.

She lifts her chin, closing her eyes halfway, as if mocking Stella, “It’s a surprise.”

 

“Aahh,” Stella says, nodding, with a small giggle. 

 

“Did you just laugh? That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh,” Charlotte gasps, “I love it.”

 

Stella shrugs with a smile. 

 

“Okay, well, if I remember your schedule correctly, this is where we split,” she says, stopping in front of a classroom door. “Would you like me to meet you back here, or do you think you can make it back to the room without me?”

 

“That’s alright, I think I remember the way.”

 

“Okay, Stella for star, I’ll see you later.”

 

She blows her a kiss and waves over her shoulder as she rushes off down the hallway towards wherever she needs to be. Stella sighs and waves back before heading into her next class. 


	9. Chapter 9

Stella is filling out paperwork, working on some assignments, and listening to the radio as Charlotte walks into the room. She doesn’t hear her come in, humming along to “Jack and Diane” as her pencil scratches on the paper. She feels fingers in her hair and almost jumps out of her seat, before realizing it was only Charlotte. She wraps her arms around her neck and gently kisses her cheek. Stella’s heart picks up speed.

 

“Hi,” Charlotte whispers in her ear.

 

“Hi,” she responds, breathless. 

 

“What are you working on?”

 

“Just this extra packet of work I got yesterday,” she mutters.

 

Charlotte leans her head against Stella’s, and looks over her work.

 

“Do you want help?”

 

“No,” she murmurs, “that’s okay.”

 

She makes a small noise in the back of her throat before kissing her on the cheek again. Her lips linger longer than any of the other times and Stella’s breath hitches. She wonders what would happen if she turned her head just enough to brush their lips together, but she doesn’t. Charlotte walks over to her desk, her fingers trailing behind her and caressing Stella’s back, before her hand drops to her side. She sits down at her desk and starts rummaging around in her drawers. Stella tries not to stare, instead drawing her attention back onto her work. 

 

“Stella, when is your birthday?”

 

Stella starts slightly at the question, her heart beating faster. 

 

“What’s the date today?”

 

“22nd of October.”

 

“Oh,” she pauses briefly and sucks in a breath, “it’s tomorrow.”

 

She’s not sure how she could have forgotten her birthday. Then she remembers that the only one who actually cared about it was her father. 

 

“You’re joking, right?” she asks, turning around in her chair. 

 

When Stella doesn’t respond, she jumps up. 

 

“Stella! Why didn’t you tell me??”

 

She shrugs. “I forgot.”

 

“Who ‘forgets’ their own birthday?” she asks, skeptically. 

 

“I do, apparently,” she says, nonchalantly, and continues writing on her paper. 

 

Charlotte is quiet for a few minutes. She doesn’t seem to be moving or working on anything. Worriedly, Stella puts down her pencil and turns around. Charlotte is staring at the ground thoughtfully as she sits on her bed. 

 

“Charlotte?”

 

She looks up at Stella, and there is something in her eyes that Stella can’t make out, but something like guilt is coming off her in waves. 

 

“I made plans last week with someone, and now I feel bad,” she says. 

 

It hurts, but Stella would never admit that, instead smiling, she says, “That’s okay.” 

 

“Stella--”

 

“Really, it’s alright,” she says, turning back around. 

 

“I can push my plans back if you want to do something for your birthday.”

 

Stella snorts bitterly to herself. “It’s okay, Charlotte. It’s just another day.”

 

She feels her walk up behind her this time, and closes her eyes as her arms wrap around her neck again. She feels guilty for acting this way, but her jealousy can’t seem to reign itself in. She wraps her fingers gently around her strong arms. Revelling in the feeling of love one gets from a hug.

 

“If you say so,” Charlotte responds, sadly.

 

That night, she waits until 2 a.m. again, before finally giving into her tears. She tries to cry silently, but her nose keeps running and making her sniffle. She tries to breathe, but it feels like her tears are blocking all of her airways. The worthlessness is almost overwhelming, but she cries until her exhaustion pulls her under. 


	10. Chapter 10

Charlotte is sitting next to her at the breakfast table, chewing her oatmeal and staring at the wall, seemingly distracted. She’s been quiet all morning, but Stella hasn’t gotten any sad vibes or angry vibes off of her. Just distracted. Besides her usual ‘good morning’ greeting, all she said was ‘Happy Birthday’ before putting on her clothes and leading Stella to the cafeteria. 

 

“Do you have any siblings?” she asks, suddenly.

 

Stella looks at her, letting her know that she has her undivided attention before answering.

 

“No, do you?”

 

Charlotte nods. “I have a little sister.”

 

“How old is she?”

 

“She’s six,” she says, smiling wide for the first time that morning, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “She’s always getting into my stuff, but I love it.”

 

Stella nods and takes a bite of her food, encouraging her to continue. Charlotte shrugs and looks down at her plate.

 

“I was just trying to figure out why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday,” she says, pushing her oatmeal around in it’s bowl. “I thought maybe a sibling overshadowed you or something.”

 

Stella chews and squints her eyes at Charlotte. 

 

“You’re really bothered by this, aren’t you?”

 

She nods, avoiding Stella’s gaze. She sighs and puts her fork down.

 

“If it really means that much to you, we can do something, and I won’t complain,” she offers, and softly pats her back.

 

This time she smiles for real, her eyes brightening as she bites her lip. The happiness that floods her body spills over into Stella’s senses, her body tingling, and she smiles too. 

 

“In that case, let’s get rid of this junk,” she says, indicating her oatmeal. 

 

Stella’s eyes widen as Charlotte gets up from the table. “But...I’m not finished!”

 

“Trust me, I have something better than cafeteria bacon,” she says, excitedly pulling Stella into a standing position. 

 

The sunlight is almost too much as they step outside of the building. Stella covers her eyes as Charlotte takes her hand and leads her behind one of the academic buildings into a forest. There is a barely there path through the underbrush, almost as if the path was made recently, until Charlotte makes a sharp left turn and pulls her off the path.

“Watch your step, there are lots of fallen trees and roots and stuff,” she says. 

 

The quiet peacefulness of the forest is eerie, but her whispered voice makes it all seem so magical. Stella squeezes her fingers, a warning to slow down, and walks closer to her. 

 

“You’re not going to murder me, are you?” Stella whispers.

 

Charlotte snorts, but doesn’t say anything else.

 

They walk through the underbrush for a few minutes, squeezing each other’s fingers back and forth. 

 

“Tell me more about your family,” Stella whispers.

 

Charlotte looks at her over her shoulder, and then cocks her head to the side.

 

“My parents are very protective, and they think they know what’s best for me. But then again, what parent doesn’t, right?”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“My sister, is a gift. One of the kindest people i’ve ever known. So accepting of everyone, and also speaks English with me. My parents hate it,” she chuckles. 

 

“What’s her name?”

 

“Emma. You might get to meet her, if my parents come to pick me up for winter break.”

 

Stella smiles, thinking how she always wanted a sister. “I look forward to it.”

 

Charlotte slows down and gently pulls Stella beside her, stopping in front of a tree with a very wide trunk. Stella can see pieces of wooden blocks nailed to the trunk in a row. She follows the path with her eyes all the way up the tree, until she sees a wooden platform. 

 

“A...treehouse?” she guesses.

 

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t complain,” Charlotte responds.

 

“I’m not, I’m just...I wasn’t expecting a treehouse on school grounds.”

 

“A few years ago, a group of boys built it and used it to party at night,” Charlotte explains, “I had heard rumors about it, and how it’s been abandoned because no one else is brave enough to come out here, or can’t find it. So I went looking.”

 

Charlotte looks over at Stella as she stares up into the canopy, a twinkle in her eyes, and smiles. 

 

“You first,” she says.

 

Stella meets her eyes and her breath hitches. The light through the trees is hitting her just right, her black hair becoming something like a halo around her beautiful face, a radiant angel. She imagines kissing her, taking her bottom lip between her own. Does she want it just as much as Stella does? She smiles back dumbly, before forcing herself to breathe. She licks her lips, counting out her breath before taking the third rung in her hand and placing her foot on the first. She climbs a bit more of the makeshift ladder before she hears Charlotte climbing up behind her, and stares at the bark on the tree, knowing if she looked down she would fall. In this fashion, she reaches the hole in the platform, and pushes herself into the tiny hut, catching her breath as she lays on the floor. She closes her eyes as she hears Charlotte struggle into the treehouse and plop down beside her. 

 

She feels Charlotte’s soft fingers push a strand of hair out of her face, and opens her eyes to find her beautifully big brown eyes staring at her. She quirks a small smile, and Stella returns it. 

 

“You alright?” Charlotte asks.

 

Stella nods, and swallows mouthful after mouthful of air. The hut is empty, save for a few posters of half naked women on the walls. There are a few small wooden chairs, a bean bag, and a dirty shag rug in one corner of the room. Old homework papers are also littered on that rug, forgotten by the boys who abandoned this place. 

 

Charlotte sits up and holds her hand out to Stella, pulling her to her feet.

 

“Let’s go out on the porch,” she murmurs. 

 

“What’s on the porch?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

There is a blanket setup, covered with rose petals, and a cooler off to the side. There are soft pillows scattered around and more blankets folded to the side. The porch looks out over the underbrush of the forest, but they are up so high that they are completely in the canopy of the leaves, sunlight shining through the green, yellow, and red, giving everything a lively glow. The colors are so beautiful, it’s almost like she’s in a fantasy. 

 

“When did you do this?” she asks, her voice low and raspy, almost as if she’s on the verge of tears. And she might as well be.

 

“This morning.”

 

Charlotte pulls her by the hand down onto the blanket, then situates herself on top of some of the pillows. She pulls out two water bottles from the cooler and hands one to Stella, who is sitting with her legs tucked under her to one side. They both take long drags of their water, catching their breath from the climb. 

 

“You said you had something better than bacon,” Stella says.

 

“Hmm? Oh! Right,” she says, grinning, and riffles around in the cooler before pulling out a small cake box. “Don’t ask me how I got this so quickly.”

 

Through the clear plastic top, Stella can see that the cake has her name on it, with some small hearts and a balloon. She smiles down at it, suddenly sad, but touched. She wants to cry, but swallows the lump in her throat. Now is not the time for tears. 

 

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, looking up and meeting Charlotte’s eyes. 

 

“Happy Birthday,” she replies, her eyes shining. 

 

Before she can even talk herself out of it, Stella is reaching out, holding her cheeks in her hands, and pressing her lips against Charlotte’s. They are just as warm as she imagined them, soft, and tasting of honey from her breakfast. Just as she’s about to pull away, Charlotte threads her fingers in Stella’s hair, and takes her top lip gently between her own. She feels her tongue, warm and tentative, slip between her lips, and tears spring to Stella’s eyes. She strokes Charlotte’s cheek with her thumb, their lips moving against each other, before pulling away reluctantly. She sniffles, and makes a small laugh, before wiping her cheeks clear of the tears. 

Charlotte gently scratches her nails through Stella’s scalp as she avoids her gaze.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, worriedly.

 

Stella shrugs, and makes another small, watery laugh. Her feelings are too much, and she squeezes her thigh, giving herself pain to calm down. Charlotte pulls gently on her hand, laying her down on the pillow next to hers. She grabs the extra blanket and puts it on top of them as they study the leaves, fingers intertwined. They eat cake with their fingers, giggling and talking about nothing in particular. 

 

It’s one of the best birthday’s Stella has had in years. 


	11. Chapter 11

She sits on her bed and watches Charlotte as she changes her clothes, her back facing her. She slips her jeans down her hips and Stella holds in a gasp, her cheeky underwear showing off her round ass. She wiggles into a skirt, and Stella finally turns away, looking down at the pile of work. She’s halfway through the pile, but she feels too tired to complete it, wishing she could magically write in all the answers without lifting a finger. 

 

She looks up, meeting Charlotte’s eyes, who seems to be staring at her inquisitively.  

Stella looks down at her shirt, thinking maybe she had some frosting stains, but finds nothing and looks back up at Charlotte. 

 

“What?” she asks, softly.

 

Charlotte shakes her head, her black hair swinging side to side, and walks over to Stella, standing between her legs. Stella looks up, her mouth parted slightly, staring into her eyes. Charlotte smiles down at her, and lays her hands on her thighs. Stella bites her cheek to keep from flinching as the fabric of her jeans rubs uncomfortably against her cuts. 

 

“Nothing,” she says, and kisses her cheek.

 

Stella smiles. “What are your plans, exactly?”

 

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Another party I said I would attend. I won’t be long,” she promises.

 

“So...I should wait up for you?”

 

She shrugs. “If you want to. I might be longer than that, though.”

 

Stella moves a piece of Charlotte’s hair from her face before twisting it gently around her finger. 

 

It stays curled for a second before falling straight again. 

 

“Maybe you should call your parents while I’m gone, I’m sure they wanna wish you a happy birthday,” she says, stroking her cheek. 

 

Stella fakes a smile, placing her hands on Charlotte’s hips. “You’re probably right.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

She strokes Stella’s cheek with her thumb again, before turning away and changing her shirt. Stella watches the muscles in her back ripple, her skin glowing beneath the colored lights, and tries to push away her obscene thoughts. The overwhelming urge to suck every inch of her skin is a new experience that Stella hasn’t had to deal with before. She squirms slightly where she sits, sitting on her hands to keep herself from jumping off the bed and wrapping her arms around her waist. She pulls on the new shirt and stands in front of the mirror, turning side to side to make sure it looks good before fluffing her hair up a bit. 

 

“Okay, that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” she says, and smiles at Stella over her shoulder.

Stella smiles back. “You look nice.”

 

“Thank you, have a good night,” she says, grabbing her purse and heading out the door. 

She watches her as she heads down the stairs before turning back to her room and grabbing her shower supplies. 


	12. Chapter 12

She pats her thighs gently to relieve the itching in her older wounds, while avoiding the pain of the new ones. She changed all her band aids into fresh ones, hoping the change will make her feel cleaner. But the clean band aids can’t bring back her father, they can’t make her mother love her. They can’t keep her from being lonely and feeling worthless. 

 

“Daddy,” she whispers into the dark.

 

She wonders if maybe he will respond, hopes, prays that he will, but nothing happens, just like every other night. He’s gone for good, and it hits her again, reality coming back, as if she spent the rest of the day in a dream and she just woke up. 

 

“Daddy,” she sobs, covering her face with her hands as her tears start to fall.

 

She allows herself to sob loudly, not caring whether the room next door can hear her, but realizing this is what she needs. Something in the depths of her mind reminds her that today wasn’t real, it was out of the ordinary, no one would ever do what Charlotte did for Stella because the family disappointment doesn’t deserve attention. She hiccups between sobs, suddenly wondering what Charlotte is doing without her, jealousy mixed with rage. She cries harder as she bangs on her wounded thighs, too exhausted to get up and do what she normally does. She continues to bang on her legs, crying out as her fist makes contact, the pain calling out loud enough to cover her thoughts.

 

“Stella?”

 

She gasps a breath in, and holds it, hoping maybe she was hearing things. Her cries had also drowned out the sound of the door opening and closing. 

 

Charlotte pads over to her bed, looking down on her face in the dark, and noticing her eyes shining with tears. She wipes at her tears with her thumbs before lifting the covers and crawling into bed with her. Stella makes a tiny whimper as she feels Charlotte’s body press against her own. She lets out a shuddery breath before taking in another. 

 

“Stella…”

 

She keeps breathing, counting them, in and out. The higher the number, the more she wishes she would disappear.

 

“Please tell me what’s wrong.”

 

She sucks air into her lungs sharply, debating whether to speak her mind or not. A few minutes pass before she feels as if she can speak in a voice that is understandable. 

 

“I...haven’t been completely...honest with you.”

 

Charlotte presses her face into Stella’s neck, her hair sticking to her wet chin. Her closeness is comforting, but Stella’s skin crawls anyway. She doesn’t deserve this.

 

“I don’t care,” Charlotte mumbles.

 

“No...I need to say this,” she says. She takes another deep breath before continuing. “My father killed himself three weeks ago. And my mother, who has barely ever been in my life, decided she didn’t want to deal with me. So she shipped me here.”

 

Tears start falling down her cheeks again. 

 

“I don’t swim anymore because it reminds me of him, and he left me, with someone who doesn’t even care about me,” her voice breaks on the last couple words. 

 

She feels Charlotte’s lips against her neck, her jaw, her face, and then finally her lips, as if her kisses could take away the pain.  

 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers against her skin. 

 

“I feel so alone,” she whimpers.

 

“I know...you’re not alone...I’m here,” she says between kisses to her cheek and nose. 

 

Stella turns her face to the side, rooting for her lips as she tangles her fingers in her hair. Charlotte complies with her wishes, pressing her lips hard against Stella’s. Stella moans slightly, sucking on her bottom lip before sliding her tongue into Charlotte’s mouth. 

 

Charlotte rolls on top of her, sliding her hands into Stella’s hair as she grabs for her waist. The heat from their kiss spreads out to the tips of her fingers and down between her legs where Charlotte is grinding her hips. Stella moans and then whimpers, wrapping her legs around her hips as she runs her hands up Charlotte’s sides.

“I’m here, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Charlotte says, kissing down her throat and to her heaving chest. She pulls up the hem of Stella’s shirt and she grabs at it, pulling it off her head and throwing it to the side. She kisses the tops of her breasts as Stella threads her fingers in her hair, looking down at the long, black strands tickling her skin. She feels her soft lips wrap around one nipple and suck hard, sending a wave of arousal to her center. She presses her hips up against Charlotte’s, causing her to moan against her breast. 

 

The heat from her tears and arousal burns on her cheeks, and she breathes shallowly to catch her breath and cool down. It’s hot, everything is hot, but it feels so good, like nothing she’s ever felt before, the adrenaline pulsing through her as if she just finished a good day of swim practice. Her pleasure has taken over her senses, her anger and sadness dissipating as Charlotte’s tongue works her nipple into a tight peak. She scratches her nails gently against her scalp, as if telling her to keep going, and squeezes her thighs tighter. 

 

“I’m hot,” she mumbles, thrusting her hips slightly.

 

Charlotte pauses for a second and throws the blanket off their bodies before kissing and sucking her other nipple into her mouth. The sudden rush of cool air against her feverish body sends another wave of heat to her core. 

 

“Ch...Char--”

 

“Mmm?” she responds, the noise vibrating against her nipple.

 

“My pants...I’m too hot.”

 

Charlotte trails kisses down her stomach before pressing her lips to the spot just about the hem of her pants. Stella lies there, taking in the slightly ticklish sensation of her lips on her skin, before lifting her hips. Charlotte smiles up at her as she pulls down her pants and Stella smiles back, stroking her cheek. Charlotte slides her arms under Stella's thighs and presses her hot mouth against her underwear, just a small scrap of fabric away from where Stella wants her the most. She sighs, gently squeezing her breasts in her hands. 

 

Suddenly, her mouth and arms are gone, and a cool wave of air hits her skin beneath her wet underwear.

 

“Charlotte?” she calls, sitting up a little bit. 

 

Her mouth is open in a silent gasp as she gently traces the band aids on her thighs, and Stella feels a wave of shame come over her. Charlotte is refusing to meet her eyes, just feeling the fabric beneath her fingers. 

 

“Wh...what happened?” she asks, and Stella looks up at the ceiling, “Did you do this?”

 

She doesn’t say anything or look back at her. Just nods. 

 

She can feel Charlotte tracing her fingers along the exposed cuts that are now scabbing up, and she feels sadness wash over her. She realizes it’s not coming from herself, but Charlotte, who lets out a small sniffle before pressing her lips against her thighs.

 

“Oh, Stella…”

 

She sniffles again, and Stella does everything to hold back her own tears.

 

“Stella…”

 

She kisses her other thigh, then gently nuzzles her nose against her stomach. 

 

“What,” Stella murmurs.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, kissing her chest.

“Your skin...is so beautiful…your mind...your eyes…” she continues, her voice low, kissing her jaw and her forehead. “Why…”

 

Stella strokes her hair half-heartedly, ashamed, feeling like she doesn’t deserve the attention.

 

“Promise me something,” she whispers in her ear.

 

“What?”

 

“You’ll tell me the next time you want to hurt yourself.”

 

Stella’s face crumples as new tears form in her eyes. She nods, pulling Charlotte against her in a hug. Charlotte strokes her hair and kisses her lips lightly. 

 

“Did you do all this while I was gone?”

 

Stella shakes her head. “I only did two tonight.”

 

“Will you let me look at them in the morning?” she asks, laying her head on her chest. 

 

Stella bites her lip before kissing her forehead, and rubs her back.

 

“Yes.” 

 

Charlotte slides over so her body is closer to the wall, rolling Stella onto her side so she can look at her. She strokes her cheek and traces the lines around her eyes, before wrapping her arm around her naked waist and pulling her closer. 

 

“Are you still hot?”

 

Stella nods, and presses her forehead against Charlotte’s, reveling in the warmth of her soft, loving skin against her own. For once, in three long weeks, with Charlotte’s arms wrapped around her, Stella starts to feel like she’s not alone. With Charlotte by her side, she thinks, maybe she’ll be okay. 


	13. Chapter 13

Sunlight from the window bounces off the walls, casting the room in a warm glow. The light kisses Charlotte’s skin, making it sparkle and glow with radiant beauty. Stella wants to reach out, touch every inch of her exposed skin, and then some, but Charlotte’s eyes flutter slightly. Stella bites her lip in anticipation, lying still, hoping she won’t wake up so she can continue studying her.

Her brown eyes open slowly, the light glittering off her iris, as if they were giving off light on their own. Stella watches as she blinks, and rubs one of her eyes with her knuckle. Some of her hair has fallen in her face, accentuating the color in her eyes and lips. Her lips part slightly as she breathes, then spread into a smile as her eyes train on Stella’s face. She reaches out and cups Stella’s chin in her hand, brushing her thumb along her plump bottom lip.

 

“Hi,” she whispers.

 

Stella smiles, and kisses her thumb.

 

“Come here,” she whines, wrapping her arm around Stella and pulling her close again. 

 

Her warm fingers on her bare skin send shivers up her spin. They trace softly along her side, like a whisper of sunlight, before guiding Stella’s knee over her own hip. Charlotte rolls onto her back, pulling Stella so that her head is lying on her breast and Charlotte’s thigh is pressed against her core. 

 

Stella thinks that she could lay like this forever. Half naked and pressed against Charlotte’s warm body, Stella feels the rest of the world fall away like leaves from a tree, each element falling one by one to leave behind this moment. Charlotte caresses the skin on Stella’s thigh, drawing circles and wide squiggles, and her nails leave goosebumps in their wake. 

 

Stella presses her face into Charlotte’s neck, sighing and leaving an open mouth kiss against her collarbone before gently sucking. Charlotte chuckles, tangling her finger in her hair, sending Stella’s scalp tingling. 

 

“We should get up soon,” Charlotte mumbles.

 

Stella just shakes her head and continues to suck at her skin as Charlotte’s free hand comes up to hold one of her breasts in her hand. 

 

Stella makes an appreciative hum in the back of her throat and slides her hand between their bodies to cup her own sex.

 

“What are you doing?” she asks, softly. She traces her thumb around Stella’s nipple.

 

“Nothing,” Stella whispers back, her breath hot on Charlotte’s neck.

 

“Stella,” she says firmly, but there is a smile on her face. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

She can feel Charlotte’s fingers trailing lightly down her arm, and the added sensation sends a wave of arousal to her core. She shifts and straddles Charlotte’s legs, sitting up and pushing out her chest, looking down at her. Charlotte’s breasts press against the collar of her low cut shirt, threatening to spill out into the open. Stella licks her lips before sliding her hands up her sides and pushing her breasts up and out of her shirt. Charlotte’s breath catches slightly as she sees the lust in Stella’s eyes. 

 

“That’s better,” she says, sliding her hand into her own underwear.

 

Charlotte makes a small moan in the back of her throat. At the site of Stella touching herself, all her resolve to get up and do homework jumps out the window, replaced with a carnal desire to see her come. She sits up a little against the headboard, grabbing Stella’s ass with both hands. 

She gasps as she makes contact with her clit, slowly circling it with three fingers while grinding against Charlotte, building up the pressure within her. Her eyes sweep over Charlotte’s body, watching as her breasts bounce with each small thrust against her, getting wetter from the sight.  

 

“Fuck,” she breathes, reaching out with her free hand to squeeze Charlotte’s exposed flesh. 

 

Charlotte thrusts her hips up involuntarily at the contact, digging her nails into Stella’s ass.

 

“Stella…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

She starts to move faster, looking down at her hand moving beneath her underwear, and there is something so erotic about not being able to see her hand working herself into a frenzy. 

 

“I want to see,” Charlotte says breathily.

 

Stella slows down a bit and grinds her sex against Charlotte’s stomach, causing them both to moan. 

 

“See what?”

 

“I want to see you finger yourself,” she murmurs, “Show me how you like it.”

 

Stella slides two fingers along her slit, feeling her wetness and teasing her entrance. She lifts herself up halfway on her knees and gives Charlotte a small smirk before pulling the crotch of her underwear to the side and sliding one finger into her pussy. She thrusts in slowly, one, two, three times, each time bumping the palm of her hand against her clit, before adding another finger and lowering herself back onto Charlotte’s body. Charlotte can feel some of the wetness through her shirt as Stella moves her hips against her, pushing her fingers in deeper. Her little gasps and heavy breathing is unbelievably sexy, and she feels her underwear becoming soaked with each thrust of Stella’s hips. Her warmth is intoxicating, like the sun after a cold day of rain. 

Stella starts to pick up speed, wiggling her fingers inside of her, moving them around just to see what it feels like before finally pressing against a spot that makes her legs twitch. She gasps loudly and changes the angle of her hips before thrusting her fingers up and against that spot, again, again, oh, God, yes, again. 

 

Stella grabs onto Charlotte’s shoulder as she thrusts faster, her wrist cramping from the effort, but she ignores it. She’s so close, panting and sweating all around Charlotte, begging for that extra thing that will push her over the edge. 

 

Seeing her struggling, Charlotte digs her nails into her ass again, but it doesn’t work. She slides her hands up Stella’s sides, pinches her nipples, bites down on the arm that’s holding onto her shoulder for dear life, and none of those things work. But, as she lays her hands on Stella’s injured thighs, accidentally scraping her nails against one of the cuts, she finally comes undone with a cry. 

 

Stella moves her hand from the stable support of Charlotte’s shoulder to her breast, leaning heavy against it, her fingers still in her pussy.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Charlotte says, lifting her hands and holding them in the air like she’s surrendering to something. 

 

Stella shakes her head, leaning over and pressing her lips against Charlotte’s.

 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, into her mouth, “I liked it.”

 

“But…” she says, between long kisses, “Your cuts.”

 

Stella sits up and pulls out just before looking at the band-aids on her thighs. In the daylight, Charlotte can see them, twenty to forty cuts on each thigh, some covered by the band-aids, others not. Most of them seem to be scabbed over, as if they were weeks old, others are more open. In addition to all the cuts, Charlotte can see large bruises that she didn’t notice the night before. 

 

Stella lightly traces the outline of the bruises with her fingertips, feeling Charlotte’s eyes on her, but refusing to look back. She feels Charlotte’s hand wrap around her wrist, and she turns her hand over, twining their fingers together as Charlotte pulls her down on top of her. 

 

“We need to get up,” Charlotte says, rubbing her bare back.

 

“Mmm,” Stella rumbles in her throat. 

 

They stay like this for a few more hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as the morning sun turned the day to noon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't add this chapter in...um lemme know if it was a mistake or not lol


	14. Chapter 14

“Paper...it’s interesting. Who invented paper? I guess we’ll never know.”

 

“Thank you, David, sit down.”

 

Stella trains her gaze outside the window, the rain pouring down, tapping on the window in greeting. The sun pokes in and out of the clouds, fighting for her attention. The murmur of the rain blends in with the rest of the murmur of the class, almost as if it’s another student. She absentmindedly rubs at her cuts, the fabric of her tights slightly burning her fingertips.

 

“Stella, how about you?”   
  


She turns away from the window to the gaze of twenty students and her teacher. He is looking at her expectantly, and she realizes he means presenting her poem. She nods and makes her way up to the front of the room, avoiding everyone’s eyes. 

 

“What is your poem?” he asks.

 

She looks down at her paper before responding. “It’s a haiku.”

 

“Oh, good. Okay. Go ahead.”

 

She clears her throat and lifts her paper up to the light slightly.

 

“The green surrounds me. The warmth seeps into my pores. I am content now.”

 

Her reciting is met with crickets. She’s not sure if it’s because no one knows her or the fact that her poem was lame, but she can tell the class isn’t very happy with her right now. Except one person, of course, and she avoids her smile.

 

“Good, thank you Stella, I’ll take your paper.”

 

She hands him the paper as she stares down at the floor, then makes her way back to her seat, the eyes around her burning holes in her new shirt. She wants nothing more than to sink into the floor, for the devil to swallow her down into the pits of Hell and claim her as his own. She goes back to observing the rain, taking in deep breaths, almost as if the entire thing never happened. 

 

“Yes, Charlotte?”

 

“I would like to go next.”

 

Stella whips her head around to where she knows Charlotte is sitting, only for her eyes to meet with the back of her head. Her glossy black hair pulled back in a high ponytail, swinging slightly as she moves.

 

“Alright, go ahead.”

 

She makes her way to the front of the room, her hips swinging, as if she know everyone is watching. More often than not, they are, and Stella wonders what it’s like to be so adored and lusted after. When she reaches the front of the room, she does a perfect pivot turn and her eyes immediately find Stella’s, giving her a sly smile before looking down to her paper. 

 

“This poem is called ‘Star’.”

 

From those words alone, Stella is captured, and something tells her that the rest of the class is also hanging off Charlotte’s energy. She clears her throat and shake her head a bit, her hair brushing her shoulder. Stella’s fingers itch with want, imagining her fingers running through the soft strands. 

 

“In class, She was quiet. But at night…,” she makes a small huff of laughter, “She was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard, Her presence surrounding me, like a fog before the sunrise. Her beauty haunts me...her tears call me. I am drawn to her melancholy as if I can save her. My lips… I’m not sure if they salve her. But in the morning, as she lays in bed, it feels as if the wounds are healed. The fog lifts, the sun rises, but she is still the loudest thing in the room. And I am entranced.” 

 

The tension crackles like lightning as the silence settles across the room. Charlotte seems to only have eyes for Stella, and Stella squeezes her thighs to keep herself in check. Her heart is pounding and breathing becomes slightly difficult. She wonders if everyone can hear her heartbeat echoing around the room. She has an overwhelming urge to run and hide, but Charlotte’s are the only eyes that see her, and something inside her yearns for this. To be loved, to be noticed, almost as if these things can save her from herself.

 

“Okay, good job, Charlotte, you can sit down now.”

 

She hands her paper to the teacher before making her way back down the aisle, a queen looking upon her people, before sitting back down for Stella to only see the back of her head. As the rest of the class presents their poems, Stella only as eyes for Charlotte, her fingers itching to touch her soft skin again. 

 

Charlotte refuses to turn around and look at her, but something tells Stella that she probably has a permanent smirk on her face. 


	15. Chapter 15

Soft fingers tangle in her hair, tickling her scalp, before soft lips press against her cheek. She purses her lips, trying to hid her smile, and continues writing, her pencil scratches echoing around the room. Charlotte rests her chin on her shoulder, and Stella reaches up with her free hand, pressing her palm gently to the side of her head. 

 

“Where’ve you been?” she asks.

 

The pause is longer than Stella expected, after all she was just kidding, and she suspects something is wrong but keeps her mouth shut. 

 

“I was helping the theater department set up a bit for one of their rehearsals,” Charlotte responds.

 

Stella isn’t sure if this is a lie, it seems possible enough, but there is a strange feeling coming from Charlotte’s pores that she can’t quite identify. 

 

Charlotte wraps her arms around Stella’s neck, hugging her closely and pressing her nose into Stella’s neck, tickling her slightly. She squirms a bit and Charlotte laughs. 

 

“Do you help out every Monday?”

 

“Mmm, pretty much. You want to come next week?”

 

“No, that’s okay.”

 

“Okay, lemme phrase this differently. You’re going with me next week because I missed you.”

 

Stella scoffs jokingly, “Suuuure you did.”

 

Charlotte playfully bites her on the shoulder and Stella gasps, mock annoyed. “Don’t bite me!”

 

“You mean, all the time, or just not right now?” she grins.

 

Stella slaps her lightly on the arm. “I’m trying to work.”

 

“Yeah yeah, okay,” she mutters and walks away.

 

Stella misses her skin immediately.


	16. Chapter 16

Stella lays in Charlotte’s arms, her cheek pressed against her breast as Charlotte breathes gently. Her heartbeat thumps in rhythm with her breaths, and Stella concentrates on her life force instead of the same thoughts she has every other night. She runs her fingers down her stomach, circles her navel, and makes her way back up to her neck. She repeats this path a few times before Charlotte reaches for her hand, holding it against her other breast.

 

“Why are you awake?”

 

Stella closes her eyes and nuzzles her chest with her nose. “I’m thinking.”

 

“About your dad?”

 

Stella just nods, pressing her lips into a line. 

 

“Let’s think about something else,” Charlotte murmurs.

 

“Like what?” she replies, her voice so soft Charlotte almost has to strain to hear her.

 

Stella feels her fingers tangle in her hair, sending her scalp a blaze with tingles. She pulls her body closer, clutching for warmth, twining their legs together.

 

“If you could do anything, career wise, what would you do?”

 

Stella shrugs, her shoulder gently bumping her chin. “Everything?”

 

Charlotte chuckles tiredly, twirling a strand of Stella’s hair on her finger. 

 

“You want to do everything?”

 

“I think it would be beneficial to try everything before I decide what I want.”

 

“Well that is indeed very logical Miss Gibson, no one can really argue with that, can they?”

 

“Are you mocking me?” Stella says, grinning slightly in the darkness.

 

Charlotte goes quiet for a beat and Stella can feel her thinking.

“No.”

 

Stella lifts her head looking to Charlotte’s face, but she is looking at the ceiling, her lips slightly pouting. 

 

“What about you?” she asks, tracing her fingers along her stomach, “What would you do?”

 

Stella watches her swallow, and her chest raises up, then back down, four times before she answers. Stella almost wonders if maybe she said the wrong thing. 

 

“I’d probably be a singer,” she looks down at Stella and smiles, “like Stevie Nicks.”

 

Stella smiles back. “I could be your violinist.”

 

Charlotte makes a small snort and says, “Stevie Nicks doesn’t have a violinist.”

 

“Well, a new sound can’t hurt.”

 

Charlotte chuckles again and reaches out, tucking some of Stella’s hair behind her ear. She cups her cheek and Stella leans into it, her lips grazing her palm gently, her face turning into a light fire. The soft light of the moon shines almost directly on Charlotte, her hair splayed out around her hair making something of a dark, glittery halo, her eyes shining bright as a light in the darkness. She smiles slightly before training her eyes on Stella’s plump lips.

 

“Are you a virgin?” she asks, quietly.

 

Stella raises an eyebrow and holds back a smile. “Yes. Why?”

 

Charlotte shrugs, tracing a thumb across Stella’s bottom lip nonchalantly. “Just curious. The other night you just seemed… comfortable? I’m not sure how else to describe it.”

 

“I walked in on my mother once…” she shakes her head slightly, “I decided to do some research afterward.”

 

“Like...personal research?” Charlotte says, grinning.

 

“If you’re asking if I touched myself often, the answer is yes,” she responds, with a small smile.

 

Charlotte nods her head, pulling Stella close again, her head falling back down to her chest. 

 

“I’m not a virgin,” Charlotte says, quietly.

 

Stella giggles. “I know, you said you slept with that boy...what was his name again? The one in our English class…”

 

“Jack.”

 

“Yes, Jack.”

 

“He’s not the only one.”

 

Stella slides her hand into Charlotte’s shirt, rubbing the soft skin on her tummy. She wraps her arm around her waist and presses a kiss to her chest, feeling waves of anxiety roll off of Charlotte’s skin. 

  
“That’s okay, I don’t mind” Stella says, but when Charlotte doesn’t respond she continues, “What’s wrong?”

 

Stella feels her breath pick up against her cheek, her heart revving up like an engine against her ear. She rubs her side in what she hopes is a comforting manner, and whispers, “It’s okay, take your time.”

 

Her fingers flex gently in Stella’s hair, almost as if she’s testing if they are really there or not as Stella holds her breath, waiting for her reply. 

 

“I, um…” her breath hitches.

 

Stella bites her lip, holding on her tighter. 

 

“I’ve been…” she sucks in a big breath, and lets it all the way out before speaking again, “I’ve been having sex with the theater teacher.”

 

A self-depreciating laugh escapes her throat before she sighs sadly. 

 

“That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud,” she whispers.

 

Stella stays silent, hoping she will continue on her own and not wanting to interrupt her, rubbing her side comfortingly. 

 

“That’s why I quit… I was embarrassed. I basically threw myself at him,” she says, and Stella feels her shake her head, her hair rustling against the pillow. 

 

“Now I have no idea how to tell him it’s not what I want anymore.”

 

Stella nods against her chest, thinking of a response. News like this is always surprising, Stella always thought that this kind of thing only happened in books or movies. She isn’t sure what to say, besides the obvious, which is to stop seeing him, and she knows that advice will not help without an actual plan. 

 

“Is that why you wanted me to come with you?”

 

“Yeah… I thought maybe if he saw us together he would see that I’d moved on,” she says.

 

Stella shakes her head. “That’s definitely not how that will happen.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Stella props her head up on her hand, her elbow digging into the mattress, her hair falling angelically around her head. 

 

“If my father taught me anything, it’s that most men treat all women the same. If the end of the relationship isn’t their idea, they will never let you just ‘move on’. If you brought me there, not only would you put yourself in more danger, but you would also put me in danger.”

 

Charlotte threads her fingers with Stella’s free hand and says, “I don’t want to do that.” 

 

“I know,” she says, with a small smile, “but you have the upper hand in this situation.”

 

“How so?”

 

“An adult cannot have sex with a minor. It doesn’t matter if it was his or your idea, he will be the one in trouble. I think if you remind him of that when you try to leave, he may just let you go. You just have to talk to him.”

 

Charlotte shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling, avoiding Stella’s eyes. Stella frowns slightly, leaning forward and pressing her lips against Charlotte’s cheek. 

 

“Let’s go to sleep,” Charlotte sighs.

 

Stella shakes her head, and presses her lips to Charlotte’s cheek again.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about something else?”

 

She gives Stella a small smile and nods. “I’m okay. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

 

Charlotte presses a kiss to Stella’s forehead before guiding her cheek back to her breast. Stella listens to her breathing, watching it even out and hearing her heartbeat slow back down before she finally allows herself to fall asleep. 


	17. Chapter 17

“Alright, let’s go back to measure 20, and basses can sing by themselves.”

 

Melissa Blanche is one of the most beautiful women that Stella has ever seen, from her shapely legs in that pencil skirt, to her beautiful green eyes. Her long, dark brown hair is pulled into a low pony tail, and placed gently on her shoulder, accentuating the large glasses perched on the end of her nose. She is almost the complete definition of tall, dark, and handsome.

 

“You’re drooling,” Charlotte whispers, smirking.

 

Stella holds back a lopsided smile, looking down at her music instead of at her beautiful teacher.

 

“Am not.”

 

She feels Charlotte’s eyes on her face, and a hint of jealousy is in the air, but she continues to avoid her eyes.

 

“You know, I don’t blame you, her arse looks great in that skirt,” she says, and there is a hint of bitterness underneath the words.

 

“Jealous?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Stella looks over from the corner of her eye to observe Charlotte, and she can see a hint of redness on her cheeks, confirming the feelings that she predicted were coming from Charlotte. She’s not sure why Charlotte would be so upset, they have never said they were exclusive, or even together. Besides, Melissa is a teacher, and Stella knows that she would never cross that professional boundary with a teacher, no matter how attractive she is.

 

She reaches over and places her hand on Charlotte’s thigh, and squeezes gently. Charlotte responds with a shiver.

 

“Your hand is freezing,” she mutters, before placing her own hand on top of Stella’s.

 

“Charlotte…”

 

Charlotte nods, acknowledging her name, and squeezes Stella’s fingers. “I know.”

 

As Charlotte avoids her gaze and Stella tries to smile at her, the bell rings, causing everyone to jump up from their seats and stampede towards the door. Charlotte finally meets Stella’s eyes when she is sure no one is watching her, and gives her a small smile before letting go of her hand and standing to gather her things.

 

“Great rehearsal today, everyone, see you next class!”

 

Stella can’t help but to watch as Miss Blanche leans slightly over the piano, her backside prominent in her skirt, one high-heeled foot tapping gently against the ground. She feels a finger jab into her side painfully, and cries out.

 

“Stop!” Charlotte scolds her, “Let’s go.”

 

Without a word, Stella turns her gaze away from their teacher and makes her way out into the hallway.

 

Stella never feels more alone than when she finds herself walking down the hall with Charlotte. There is an air about her that only comes when they are in public, as if she is a queen and no one else is on her level. Every other person that passes in the hallway waves at her, while barely avoiding a collision with Stella, as if they can’t even see her. Sometimes being invisible is great, and other times she wishes that she could receive the same love and attention from everyone. The further they walk, the more crowded the hall becomes, making them even more difficult to navigate, and Stella starts to feel like the walls are closing in. It’s not until she feels soft fingers wrap around her own that she remembers that she is not completely alone.

Charlotte leads her through the crowd, people parting like the Red Sea as they see Charlotte coming.

 

When the crowd finally thins out, the two girls find themselves standing outside of the auditorium. There are a few sparse people standing in the hall, mostly couples, and a few single people eating their food on the hallway floor. As Stella takes in the features of the theater members, she realizes that Charlotte is still holding on tightly to her hand, their fingers interlaced.

 

“Charlotte!”

 

A tall, brown haired man shouts her name from halfway down the hallway. He makes his way towards them, almost jogging, and Stella can’t help but notice that the man only has eyes for Charlotte. Stella feels a change in Charlotte’s body next to her. It tenses up, her fingers tightening in Stella’s hand, and her breath becomes more shallow.

 

“Hey, can I see you in my office for a second?” he says, pointing his thumb behind him expectantly.

 

Stella watches Charlotte out of the corner of her eye, and she can see Charlotte grimacing as she swallows thickly.

 

“Um… sorry. I can’t,” she says, squeezing Stella’s hand defiantly.

 

He squints his eyes a bit and makes an unsure smile.

 

“Uhh, okay. Can we meet up tomorrow?”

 

Charlotte shakes her head.

 

“No,” she responds shortly, “Bye.”

 

Before Stella can even process the exchange, Charlotte is pulling her by the hand around the man and down the hall, leaving him dumbfounded and cemented to the spot where she left him.

Stella looks back over her shoulder only once before Charlotte is pulling her around a corner and into another hallway. She feels Charlotte relax as they find themselves out of the vicinity of that man, and she realizes what just happened. A wave of pride fills her heart, understanding how difficult walking away must have been for her. She picks up her pace just a bit, pulling forward so she is in line with Charlotte’s steps again.

 

“Charlotte?”

 

“Hmm?” she responds without looking at her.

 

Stella bites her cheek and says exactly what’s on her mind. “I’m proud of you.”

 

Charlotte stops abruptly in the middle of the empty hallway, turning towards Stella, causing Stella’s heart to speed up. Anxiety takes over as she wonders if maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, contemplating running away down the hallway. Charlotte’s eyes are wide, a line of tears starting to form in her bottom lids, her chest heaving slightly against her tight t-shirt, and Stella can’t stop herself from thinking that she fucked up somehow. Charlotte drops her hand.

 

And then, her fingers are sliding along the back of Stella’s neck, before tangling her fingers in her hair and pressing their lips together.

 

Stella feels something against her back, and she figures she must be against the wall now, but she doesn’t care because Charlotte’s lips are so soft and her fingers are caressing her jaw and there is nothing else happening in the world. She reaches out blindly, finding Charlotte’s hips and pulling on them gently as their lips move against each other. She feels Charlotte’s hands slide up to cup her cheeks before she breaks their connection, only to place extra kisses along her cheeks and eyelids. Stella sighs, sucking up the feeling of love coming from Charlotte’s lips against her skin.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Charlotte murmurs, “Thank you for holding my hand.”

 

Stella feels her arms as they wrap around her neck, her face pressing into her soft blonde hair, and encircles Charlotte’s waist in her arms.

 

“I’m here for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently writing the last few chapters/sections of Part 2. I have a very busy semester, but I promise I'm working on it!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: implied/mentions of rape

_ Months later _

 

“I think we should go see a movie.”

 

Stella turns her head slightly, her eyes never leaving the work in front of her, but acknowledging the comment nonetheless. 

 

“When?”

 

Charlotte scoffs. “You’re the worst. Nevermind.”

 

“I didn’t say no.”

 

“Yeah, but when you ask questions, it usually leads to a no.”

 

Stella holds back a smile. 

 

“I’m not opposed to a movie, I would just like to know when we would go.”

 

Charlotte is silent on the other side of the room.

 

“You meant right now, didn’t you?”

 

She pauses before her response. “Maaaayybbbeee…”

 

Stella sighs, setting down her pen and collecting all of her papers into a pile. 

 

“Fine.”

 

“Yesssss.”

 

Stella hears the scrape of Charlotte’s desk chair as she stands and gathers her things. 

It was just another typical Saturday afternoon. Stella attempting to finish her work for the week, and Charlotte doing anything but that. Some days they would go for a walk, other times they would head down to the pool where Stella would try to swim laps as Charlotte did handstands in an attempt to mess up her flow. Not once did they ever actually leave campus. Stella was intrigued.

 

For the last few months, Charlotte has been exceptionally happy. Her attitude is infectious, and Stella seems to be absorbing her great energy like a sponge, to the point where Stella wonders if she has ever been this happy before in her life. As Charlotte takes her hand, and leads her out of the school, Stella clears her mind of all thought so that all she can feel is the warmth of Charlotte’s fingers intertwined with her own. They head to the bus stop, only having to wait a few moments before it pulls up and they hop up the stairs.

 

“When was the last time you went to the cinema?”

 

Stella scrunches up her eyebrows as she tries to recall a memory, and sits down on her bus seat. 

 

“Probably year 9? I used to go with my swim team.”

 

“Do you remember what you saw?”

 

Stella presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Poltergeist?”

 

“What, you’re not sure?”

 

“I saw a lot of movies that year,” Stella says, pushing Charlotte’s shoulder playfully.

 

“So, you like horror movies?” Charlotte laughs.

 

“I don’t mind them. Why are you laughing?”

 

“Nothing, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

 

“You didn’t think I would be into that?”

 

“Well, you just seem to be a no nonsense kind of girl.”

 

“And horror movies are what you would consider ‘nonsense’?”

 

“Well, the ones that involve the supernatural,” she clarifies.

 

“So, what do you consider an acceptable horror movie?”

 

“I dunno...Psycho?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t agree.”

 

“You’re not wrong, I would just like to know why.”

 

Charlotte scoffs as if Stella questioning the mere thought of Psycho not being a great horror movie is a disgrace to this earth. Stella shakes her head and bites her cheek, trying to hide her smile. 

 

“Because it deals with reality and makes you question everything you know about humanity! Learning that people kill for no real reason, _ that _ is horror, my friend. Not stupid shit like vampires or ghosts.”

 

Stella shakes her head with a fond smile, lightly tapping Charlotte on the thigh with her palm.

 

“Okay, I agree, let’s not cause a scene.”

 

Charlotte smirks. “Oh, trust me, if I were causing a scene, you would know it.”

 

They sit in what can only be considered comfortable silence. The voices in Stella’s head have been quiet for sometime now, and she can’t help but feel some kind of inner peace. With all the time she spends with Charlotte, it’s hard to tell whether that sense of calm comes from Charlotte or herself. No matter the origin, Stella appreciates it, nonetheless.

 

She feels Charlotte’s warm fingers slide into her own and squeeze. It seems so natural, holding her hand, that sometimes Stella never wants to let go. 

 

“What are we going to see today?” Stella asks softly, breaking the silence.

 

Charlotte shrugs and gives her a smile. “We’ll decide when we get there.”

 

The bus rumbles around a corner and goes down the street a few feet before finally coming to a stop. As the door slides open noisily, Charlotte pulls Stella up gently by the hand and leads her down the stairs onto the concrete. They stand for a moment and watch as the bus closes its doors, pulling away before finally heading back into the darkness.  

 

Stella turns and looks down Charlotte’s body. She wore a short jean skirt with a neon pink crop top and a leather jacket, her long dark hair flowing gently in the breeze. She is stunning.

 

“You do know where we are going, right?”

 

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Of course I do.”

 

She takes Stella by the hand again, pulling her down the sidewalk towards the only light source in the black hole of the night. Her skin and eyes sting from the wind and her eyes lose focus as they start to tear up, but Stella can’t think of a time when she had ever felt so free. Maybe boarding school wasn’t such a horrible idea. As the lights dance back into focus, Stella can see that the only thing on this street is a movie theater. A giant sign above a ticket booth announces the movies showing for the night and the ticket cost.

As they approach the booth, Charlotte drops Stella’s hand and gives her a smile. 

 

“Cover your ears,” she says.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Because I said so, do it!” she demands, squinting her eyes and giving Stella a stern look.

She rolls her eyes before pressing her palms to her ears and turning her body slightly away from the booth. The sound of the blood running through her body is the only thing she can hear, and somehow it’s calming. She takes slow breaths, listening to the rush of air within her body. In. Out. Two minutes seems like ten, and then Charlotte is taking her hand and guiding her into the theater. 

 

“You’re really not going to tell me what we’re watching?” Stella asks, as she links her arm with Charlotte’s. They move to stand in line for concessions behind five other people. 

 

“Nope,” she replies, with a grin.

 

“You know, one of these days I’m not going to just blindly follow you everywhere.”

 

“Aww, but that’s what makes it fun.”

 

“I’m not one for spontaneity.”

 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. Live a little, Stella.”

 

Stella laughs, but the joy is short lived. A gentle wave of anxiety runs through her body as Charlotte stiffens a bit next to her. She can feel sweat on her palms gathering a bit as she looks to Charlotte to figure out what’s wrong. 

 

“What is it?” Stella murmurs.

 

“Those guys over there were staring,” she says, shaking her head.

 

“At us?”

 

Charlotte nods, but keeps her eyes straight ahead. Stella turns her head a bit and spots the men from the corner of her eye. They were indeed staring, and not too subtly, with weird, gross smirks on their faces. And then Stella sees them turn.

 

“They’re leaving,” she says, and rubs her hand along Charlotte’s arm in an act of comfort. 

 

Charlotte nods and lets out a breath, relaxing into Stella’s side.

 

“I’m sorry, I just got a very weird feeling from them,” she explains.

 

“It’s okay, Char, I understand,” Stella says and gives her a small smile. 

 

They grab their popcorn and Charlotte leads Stella down the hall before stopping and turning towards her again. All hint of nervousness from before is gone from her face, and she’s grinning as she takes the popcorn from Stella’s hands. 

 

“Close your eyes,” she says.

 

“Really?”

 

“Mmmhm.”

 

“You’re being serious right now?”

  
“Stella, close your fucking eyes.”

 

Stella gives her a look before raising her eyebrows and closing her eyes. “Happy?”

 

“No, your eyes are beautiful, but this is necessary,” she says, and Stella feels her take her hand and pull her along. Stella feels herself walking up a slight incline and she can tell that the room has gotten darker on the other side of her eyelids. 

 

“Okay, you can look again,” Charlotte says.

 

“What was the point of that?” Stella asks, immediately opening her eyes.

 

“Let’s go to the middle.”

 

“What’s wrong with the front?”

 

“I’m not breaking my neck, we’re going to the middle.”

 

Stella isn’t sure what the title of the movie is, because Charlotte covers her eyes when it comes on the screen, but halfway through she realizes it’s a romance movie and she doesn’t hate it. In fact, she’s quite fascinated, leaning forward a bit in her seat as she feels Charlotte’s fingers trace the lines along her palms. 

It’s almost near the end and Stella is loving every warm feeling within her, and she wonders if this is not her new favorite movie, when she feels Charlotte’s breath on her ear. She turns her head a little, wondering if Charlotte will kiss her here, in this dark room surrounded by strangers.

 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she whispers.

 

Stella huffs a small laugh, thinking how ridiculous that train of thought was.

 

“You’re going to miss the ending,” she says.

 

“I’ve already seen this,” Charlotte responds, smirking, and laughs softly at Stella’s incredulous look, “I’ll be back in a few. If it ends while I’m still gone, just meet me in the lobby.”

 

Stella nods and turns her head back to the screen, but not before seeing Charlotte’s fond, loving smile in her direction. 

 

The ending is beautiful, full of action, but of course ends happily. She feels herself smiling softly, her heart full of warmth.The end credits start to roll, and it’s only then that Stella realizes that she is alone. She was so caught up in the movie that she didn’t see that Charlotte had not come back. The hair on the back of her neck stands up as an ice cold chill runs down her spin, and she realizes that something is wrong. She has not had this feeling since the day she found out her father died.  _ Oh please, let her be okay _ , she begs. Her breathing becomes a bit shallow as she stands from her seat and makes her way to the exit.

 

It takes everything in her to keep herself from jogging through the empty lobby and over to the girl’s bathroom. She takes a gently step on the tile floors sticking her head in and surveying her surroundings. There is no one standing in front of the sinks, no self-conscious girl checking her makeup, or person drying their hands.

 

“Charlotte?”

 

Her voice echos, but there is no response. She leans over a bit and takes a look under each stall, not seeing a single pair of feet under any of them. The chill from before moves to her lungs, and her breathing becomes a bit panicked. Suddenly not caring what anyone thinks, Stella runs out of the bathroom and down the hall towards the other theater, her feet slapping hard against the carpet. She skids into the theater, shouting Charlotte’s name, but only finds a worker sweeping the floor between the seats. She runs a hand through her hair as she turns to go back to the lobby, blood pumping in her head, making her feel a bit dizzy. 

 

_ Air _ , she thinks, _ I need air to think _ . 

 

She pushes through the front door, wheezing as the cold hair hits her lungs, but the chill is good. It sobers her up enough to think.

 

_ I need to call the police, or the school or something, where the fuck is she? _

 

Her eyes sweep across the darkness, remember that this theater was the only thing nearby. 

 

_ Maybe if I run-- _

 

Her thought is immediately interrupted by a noise, so quiet she thinks she imagined it. And then it comes again. A sob, a whimper, a sound so painful, followed by a shushing sound. Her heart rate doubles and she runs towards the sound, hoping that it’s not who she thinks it is.

 

“Shit, someone is coming,” she hears as she approaches the side of the building. A male voice.

 

As she reaches the corner of the building she almost runs into two boys, stopping herself just barely as they run past her. But not fast enough for her to not recognize their faces from earlier or hear their laughter echoing into the darkness. She wants to run after them, rage bursting through her like that day at the pool, but she knows someone is hurt.

 

_ Please, don’t let it be her _ , she thinks, as she turns towards the whimpers, but she knows her begging is pointless.

 

Her skirt is hiked up around her waist, exposing her lower half, and that’s all Stella needs to see before tears blur her vision and run down her cheeks. The few lights around the building dance across her vision and leave her temporarily blind, but somehow she finds her way over to Charlotte. She feels sick, her stomach in knots, just barely holding down the bile in her throat. She can faintly smell blood but ignores it as she kneels down and reaches for Charlotte. She had left her jacket in the theater and Stella had forgotten that she had it until now. Quickly, she wraps it around Charlotte’s body, wiping away tears with her free hand. She assesses Charlotte’s body, noticing that her underwear was missing, and searching for the source of the blood. She has to turn her head when she finds it, becoming light headed and almost throwing up.

 

“Stella…”

 

She whips her head around and her gaze immediately meets Charlotte’s dazed, brown eyes. She lets out a sob as she notices Charlotte has a small smile on her face, and her hand is reaching for Stella’s thigh.

 

She swallows thickly. “You’re bleeding.”

 

As Charlotte closes her eyes, Stella’s brain starts to pick up speed again, only this time her thoughts are fueled with determination. Like some kind of doctor, she lists the things wrong in her head, and starts to breath, in and out. After seven deep breaths, she snaps into action. She quickly stands to her feet, pulling her underwear down from under her skirt and stepping out of them. She kneels down on the ground and rummages around in her purse for a pad, peeling away the wrapping and setting it into her underwear.

 

“What are you doing?” Charlotte asks, quietly.

 

Stella ignores her, kneeling down by her legs and gently guiding them into the holes of her underwear and pulling them up and in place. Stella helps Charlotte stand up and places her arms in her jacket before pulling her skirt back down around her hips.

 

“Can you walk?”

 

“I-I think so?”

 

Stella wraps one of Charlotte’s arms around her shoulders before wrapping both of her arms around her waist, and guides her down the street.

 

“We’ll go slow, but we need to find a payphone.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m calling the police.”

 

Charlotte stops, holding Stella in place.

 

“No.”

 

Stella looks at her, stunned, and Charlotte stares back as defiantly as she can.

 

“Then we’ll go to the hospital--”

 

“No.”

 

“Why are you saying no?”

 

“They aren’t going to do anything, Stella!”

 

Stella looks down at the ground, anxious. Charlotte had never yelled at her like that before. There is fury in her eyes and coming out of her like steam and drowning Stella’s pores.

 

“Hospitals, the police, they don’t care about this kind of stuff, all they are gonna do is send me home! So, take out the middleman, let’s just go back.”

 

Stella turns them around and heads back to the bus stop they used earlier that night. Their banter on the bus seemed so far away, like maybe it had happened a few days ago instead of just hours. She wants to cry, but something tells her to be strong for Charlotte, now is not the time to break down. She squeezes her a little tighter around the waist as they sit down on bench at the stop. It’s not until she feels Charlotte’s other arm come up to wrap around her other shoulder that Stella realizes she’s been crying the entire walk. Charlotte buries her face in Stella’s hair as she squeezes tighter, crying freely as Stella holds back tears of her own.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m here…”


	19. Chapter 19

The early morning sunlight glitters in her dark hair and cascades through Stella’s fingers like water. Charlotte’s cheek is pressed softly to her chest, small puffs of air creating a warm spot just above her heart through her shirt. A morning such as this, so soft and comforting, would normally be full of sleepy caresses and soft conversation. Today, however, just seems wrong, as if the skies should open up and mourn for the horrible things that have happened in the world. 

 

_ “Charlotte, what are you…” _

_ “Please, Stella,” she sobs, “I feel so gross and I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t go.” _

_ “You have to get out of the water, it’s burning--” _

_ “Please, Stella...I need to get clean…” _

_ “Okay...okay.” _

 

_ Today shouldn’t be a happy day _ , she thinks. 

 

“It feels like spring.”

 

Stella looks down at Charlotte. Though she had spoken, her eyes are still closed, her face pressed into Stella’s chest. She stays silent, stroking Charlotte’s soft, thick hair. 

 

“It feels wonderful,” Charlotte murmurs, almost to herself. 

 

Stella’s breath catches slightly, wondering how Charlotte can be so grateful for the feel of the sun when she has been through an ordeal. How can she be content while Stella sits and curses the world? How can the girl who was in so much pain last night seemly forget about it, even for a second? Stella can’t. She stares at the ceiling, twirling a strand of Charlotte’s hair around her finger.

 

_ Stella leans her back against the shower stall, her clothes immediately soaked through as Charlotte clings to her. Despite the heat, Charlotte shivers against Stella’s shoulder. She massages her fingers through Charlotte’s hair, cleaning her scalp. _

_ “It’s okay, Charlotte...I’ll help you, just stay still.” _

 

“You know what I like about the Spring?” Charlotte’s voice asks.

 

Stella stares at the odd cracks in the ceiling, feeling Charlotte’s eyes on her, but avoiding her gaze. She shakes her head in response. 

 

“It’s the season of life,” she says, and takes a breath before continuing. “After months of cold and darkness and death...the sun just...comes out. And then the flowers bloom, and babies are born...like it’s a brand new world. Everything is okay again.”

 

Stella feels tears running down her cheek and into her hair. She can barely make out the water stain above her, the sun and her tears obscuring her vision. She continues to move her hand through Charlotte’s hair, as if that will distract her from the fact that Stella is crying from her words. 

 

“I’m okay, Stella,” she whispers.

 

Stella closes her eyes and lets out a harsh breath.

 

“Don’t cry,” she says, and Stella feels it right by her ear and her heart.

 

Blindly, she wraps her arms around Charlotte’s neck and pulls her closer, feeling Charlotte press her face against her neck.

 

“I just don’t understand,” she chokes out. “How can you say something like that, see something beautiful in this world, when…”

 

Charlotte pulls away, leaning over Stella and finally she meets her deep brown eyes, and not a single hint of a tear is in them. 

 

“I could have died last night, Stella,” she says, “But I didn’t. And now the sun is out...it’s like I get a second chance. Like Spring.”

 

_ “I’m sorry, Stella.” _

_ “What are you sorry for?” _

_ “I ruined the night,” she chokes on her words. _

_ Stella shushes her gently, running her soapy hands along her body. _

_ “No, you didn’t,” Stella murmurs. _

_ Charlotte is silent as she looks down at the floor. _

_ “Harder.” _

 

Charlotte gently moves a strand of hair behind Stella’s ear as she continues to look up at her in silent worship. She wonders if Charlotte can save her, pull her from this slump she’s been in since her father died, make her the way she was before. Before last night, that was a thought Stella would have entertained for days. She knows now that Charlotte is just as human as she is, but is just a bit better at handling it. Most days.

 

Charlotte leans in, taking Stella’s bottom lip between her own just for a moment, before pressing her lips to her forehead. 

 

“You’re my sunshine,” she says softly, pressing her forehead against Stella’s and stroking her hair.

 

Stella lets out a small, watery laugh, melting silently on the inside. 

 


	20. Chapter 20

It’s almost a week later when Stella finally snaps.

 

The sun seems to be fighting with the clouds, making the world turn from bright to dark in a matter of seconds, the smell of rain on the horizon. Charlotte walks next to her, mostly silent, almost as if she’s too shy to speak so often. For once, Stella cannot get a good read on what she’s feeling and it’s been like that for the better part of the week. Stella finds it frustrating, almost to the point where she wants to do something irrational just to see Charlotte’s reaction.

 

But she would never do that, not to her.

 

Their feet slap the pavement lightly as they walk between buildings, Charlotte holding her books tightly to her chest, and Stella glances over every once in a while when she feels that the silence has gone on for too long. People wave to them as they pass, and Charlotte responds with small smiles, barely lifting her head, not at all like the boisterous queen she used to be before. It breaks Stella’s heart, sending icy shards of glass throughout her veins.

 

All she can think is _ I need to do something, I need to say something. _

 

She racks her brain for a second before finally settling on a topic she considers safe.

 

“How is Emma?” she inquires, quietly.

 

Charlotte gives her a smile with a far away look in her eyes. “She’s great.”

 

“I bet she misses you.”

 

“And I miss her,” she says, and her smile grows just a little wider, “But we would never admit it to each other.”

 

“You were on the phone awhile yesterday, what could a six year old possibly have to say that takes an hour?”

 

Charlotte shrugs. “Lots of stuff. She’s very adamant about paying attention to the little details.”

 

“Why, does she want to be a solicitor?”

 

“No,” Charlotte says, her face scrunching up a bit as the sun peeks out, “she was just born that way.”

 

“Interesting.”

 

Charlotte laughs and shakes her head, and Stella’s eyebrows knit together.

 

“What?”

 

She keeps shaking her head and reaches out to briefly squeeze Stella’s hand. “You’re so cute.”

 

“Why do you say that?” Stella responds, her eyes narrowing.

 

“Your fascination with people is just, as you would say,  _ interesting _ ...but also adorable.”

 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

 

“Well, you pay attention to detail just like Emma, but it’s really only in regards to other people. You’re very attentive to people, you notice everything.”

 

Stella purses her lips, contemplating for a second before realizing that Charlotte is absolutely right. She had never really thought of it like that before, she was too busy worrying about the different feelings that came with being close to someone. 

 

“Maybe you should become a therapist,” Charlotte says quietly, her voice moving somewhere in the direction of her feet. 

 

Stella chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “That is a career, isn’t it?”

 

Charlotte chuckles at her response. “Yes, one of the many you said you wanted to try.”

 

They fall back into a comfortable silence as they both take in the rest of their surroundings. There are teenagers everywhere, enjoying the land before the rain traps them inside. The people walking nearest to them are 5 feet ahead on the walkway, a boy and a girl, holding hands and swinging their arms freely. There are plenty of kids sitting in the grass, reading, talking, doing cartwheels, but then Stella’s eyes train on two boys sitting under a tree. One of them is kicking a hackysack spastically, while the other clearly only has eyes for Charlotte. It’s that same disgusting, creepy sneer from the movie theater lobby that had Charlotte so on edge. Stella realizes that Charlotte must have also been looking in the same direction as her as she feels Charlotte tense up next to her.

 

She turns to look at Charlotte, who has slowed down just a bit in her walk. 

 

“Is that--”

 

Charlotte nods immediately and her olive skin turns ghost white. 

 

Before she can even think about it, Stella is striding in the direction of the tree.

 

“Wait, Stella--” Charlotte calls weakly, her voice dying on the wind.

But Stella doesn’t stop. Before, she had someone to take care of. Before, she was desperately needed. Before, she was distracted. Now, nothing was in the way, and nothing was going to stop her from acting on the instinct that she felt that night. 

 

She’s only feet away when she finally announces her presence, as if she hadn’t watched the scumbag with the sneer follow her movement with his eyes.

  
“Hey.”

 

He smirks down at her, because, obviously, he’s much taller than her. At least he thinks he is.

 

“Hey, yourself,” he responds, and his buddy chuckles beside him.

 

That’s all he can get out before Stella’s fist connects with his nose. It all seems to happen in slow motion, but Stella keeps sending response signals to her brain hoping they will go through anyway, like a frozen computer. He falls to the ground with a grunt as blood seeps from his nose and she lands one swift kick to his crotch, feeling her toes connect with flesh before she feels someone try to pull her away. She swings her arms blindly, her elbow jabbing into bone, but the strong arms continue to hold her. She struggles, attempting to break free. 

 

“Stella!”

 

Charlotte’s voice brings everything back up to speed, and suddenly her body is throbbing with pain.

 

“Control your bitch, Charlotte,” the boy on the ground says with a groan.

 

“Fuck you,” Stella spits out.

 

“Calm down,” she hears another male voice in her ear.

 

“How dare you!”

 

“My father’s lawyer will be hearing about this.”

 

“You have some fucking nerve!” Stella is practically screaming.

 

“Please, let her go,” Charlotte begs.

 

“If I ever see you look at her, or even  _ think _ about looking at her again, I won’t hesitate to find the nearest sharp object and stab you in the bollocks,” she yells, finally wrenching herself free of the other boy. 

 

She turns on him and pushes him away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

 

“Stella, please…” Charlotte says, grabbing her arm. Stella ignores her.

 

“I’m not going to let you get away with this!”

 

“It’s not them, Stella, I was wrong, let’s just go.”

 

Stella turns on her sharply. “Wait, what--”

 

She sees fear in Charlotte’s large, brown eyes. Fear of getting in trouble, fear of the boys, fear of it happening again. And in that fear Stella can tell that Charlotte is lying. Charlotte knows it was them, how could she possibly forgot, but she’s afraid. Afraid it will happen again, but this time with a different outcome. Stella wants so desperately for them to be punished for what they did, but not at the expense of Charlotte’s safety. And that’s when she realizes that she may have just done that, put her safety as well as Charlotte’s on the line. It’s only then, when she sees the fear in her eyes and feels it against her skin, that she turns away, stalking back towards the dorms with Charlotte jogging mutely behind her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure yet, but there should be about 5 more chapters after this one and then it's on to part 3. Part 3 might take a bit longer for me to write, but please stick with me!


	21. Chapter 21

Something is wrong.

 

Stella isn’t sure what exactly, but Charlotte has been gone for two of the three classes they have together that day, and Stella wonders if she was only in the first one because Stella had to walk there with her this morning. She listens to the chatter around her as ice runs down her spine, making her shiver. When the bell rings, she can’t leave her chair fast enough. 

 

She pushes her way through the crowds, almost running blindly back to the dorm, figuring if Charlotte isn’t there, she can at least drop off her things before she goes looking for her. She takes the stairs two at a time, just barely avoiding a collision with Jack, but she doesn’t care. She’s on a mission. 

 

“Hi, Stella,” he calls, softly.

 

“Hey,” she says over her shoulder.

She rounds the corner and walks briskly towards her room, but stops when she realizes the door is ajar. She holds her body rigid to prevent another shiver from going through her body. She steps up slowly towards the door, pushing it open just a bit more before walking in. 

 

“Charlotte?”

 

But there is no reply. And the room has been transformed. 

 

The tapestry that hung on the wall is gone, leaving the walls bright and stark white from the sunlight coming through the window. The string of lights that were carefully hung in the room are also gone, alone with the things on Charlotte’s desk. The bed is just as bare as Stella’s was the first day she moved in. The doors of her wardrobe hang open as if someone was in a hurry to empty it, and they were stunned into place. Though there is a comforter, and Stella’s bed is made up, it looks as though no one lives in this room. Her side is too clean, to pristine, everything too _in its place_ to feel like an actual room. Heat rises up her throat, through her nasal cavity and into her eyes, tears threatening to escape. 

 

Before she can stop herself, a small whimper escapes her lips. Her hand slaps against her mouth, as if she can push the sound back in and make it so it never happened. She feels the tears trickle over her fingers and down her wrist. 

 

An overwhelming wave of sadness that she hadn’t felt in so many months takes over her body, her muscles weakening and giving out on her. She sits down on the cold floor, pulling her knees to her chest, holding in sobs with only her human hands. All she can hear is the blood pumping in her ears and the strangled noises coming from her mouth. It seems like it always ends like this, Stella crying alone in this room. It’s like nothing else has ever happened in her life. She presses her face into her knees and wraps her arms around her skinny legs, the fabric of her pants rubbing uncomfortably with her shirt.

 

She’s not sure how long she sits there, when she feels soft hands on her wrists, delicate fingers pulling gently.

 

“Stella…”

 

Stella presses her forehead into her knees, welcoming the darkness her legs create as they block out the whiteness of the room. 

 

“Baby, please…”

 

She can only sob in response. 

 

“Please, look at me….”

 

“You can’t leave,” she chokes out, and it comes out muffled against her legs.

 

Charlotte pauses briefly, and the air fills with tension. “It wasn’t my choice.”

 

Stella looks up because somehow that pause didn’t fit with the statement she chose. And then she feels it, like a bug crawling from her wrist, up her arm and onto her shoulder. Guilt. Only, it’s not coming from Stella. Stella wonders why Charlotte would be guilty, but when she sees that Charlotte is now avoiding her gaze, she understands. She thinks maybe she can let it go, go on pretending like it’s true.

 

Which is why she’s surprised when she responds the way she does.

“Why are you lying to me?”

 

Charlotte closes her eyes and lets out a breath. “Stella…”

 

“That’s why you were on the phone so long the other day… you were calling them to…”

 

Charlotte looks down at her hands on Stella’s wrists, and suddenly Stella feels like her skin is crawling. She scoots back, just enough so that their skin loses contact.

 

“Please come back here,” Charlotte whispers.

 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Stella replies, looking at a spot on the floor just by her foot. 

 

Charlotte chews on her cheek and looks at Stella’s eyes, despite the fact that Stella is avoiding hers.

 

“I have to.”

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

“Stella, you don’t under--”

 

“I  _ do _ understand, I was there.”

 

“But, it’s not the s--”

 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t understand!”

 

Charlotte sighs. “Stella, I can’t be here if they are here.”

 

Stella shakes her head. “I know, but  _ I’m _ here.”

 

Charlotte makes a small, amused huff. “Yes, you are.”

 

“And I love you.”

 

It’s out before she can even think about it. She had been avoiding using it all these months, thinking it was too soon and she didn’t actually know whether it was true or not. But faced with the threat of losing her, Stella realized it was true. When all she wanted to do was protect her in the face of danger, and defend her honor, she had to finally admit that it was true.

 

The look on Charlotte’s face is a mixture of shock and pain, and Stella wonders if maybe she should have said it earlier, if not at all. But she won’t take it back. She would never take something like that back. 

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

It wasn’t the response she was expecting, or wanted, and it hurts. Her chest suddenly feels compressed, her heartbeat is screaming in her ears. She presses her lips together into a line and bows her head, closing her eyes.

 

“You think you do but… you don’t even know me,” Stella hears her whisper, and then, “I don’t even know me.”

 

Stella just nods her head, her forehead brushing against her knee, feeling the tears as they fall heavily in her lap. 

 

“But I love you,” Charlotte murmurs.

 

She wasn’t expecting it, and to be fair, it was almost too little, too late, but there they were. The words, the response she had wanted and expected. Stella unfolds herself and practically launches her body across the floor and into Charlotte’s arms. She settles into her lap, wrapping her legs around Charlotte’s waist and her arms around her neck. She holds her, rubs her hands up and down Stella’s back, pressing her chest closer as Stella wheezes slightly. 

 

“They are sending me somewhere with limited phone service,” Charlotte says into Stella’s hair, “but, I’ll give you my home phone number, and you can call me in the summer.”

 

Stella shakes her head a little and whimpers. Though she can hear the honesty and the softness in her words, Stella isn’t stupid. She knows that this is over. 

 

“Maybe we can try again when we both have healed,” Charlotte says, and Stella can hear the strain in her voice. 

 

Stella pushes her face into the crook of her neck and nods.

 

“Let me know what career I should choose after you try everything,” she tries to joke, but her voice cracks halfway through. 

 

Stella nods again and holds on tighter. She runs her fingers through Charlotte’s silky hair one last time, pressing a kiss to her cheek, before finally letting her go. 


	22. Chapter 22

“Stella, can I see you in my office, please?”

 

She’s not sure exactly what she’s done, but when a teacher asks you to do something, you’re supposed to do it. Nevermind the fact that said teacher is the most beautiful woman Stella has ever seen. Without Charlotte, she seems to have plenty of free time on her hands anyway. She follows after Miss Blanche, who closes the door behind her as Stella takes her place across from her desk. Instead of sitting at her desk, however, Miss Blanche sits on the edge of her desk nearest Stella, observing her with narrowed eyes. 

 

“You’ve been slacking this week.”

 

Stella nods her head and tries not to think about the bare legs presented to her only inches away.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Look,” she sighs, “I know your friend is gone, and that’s tough, but I really need you to participate in this group. You’re more talented than you give yourself credit for.”

 

Stella nods again, her fingers itching to reach out and brush against the smooth skin of her thigh.

 

“If you ever need anything… my door is open,” she says, softly. 

 

Stella looks up at her then, meeting her beautiful green eyes which are filled with nothing but kindness. Though they are a different color, they remind her of Charlotte, and the way Charlotte used to look at her in the new light of the morning. Miss Blanche gives her a small smile.

 

“I know how hard it is to not have friends at school,” she says, “but I’ll be here for you.”

 

Before Stella can even register why, she’s standing slowly and placing her hand on one of Miss Blanche’s hips. She leans in and presses their lips together, sighing as one of her hands lands on Stella’s abdomen. Stella sucks gently on her bottom lip, and excitement travels to her core as she feels Miss Blanche kiss back. And then, there is a pressure on her stomach and she’s pulling back from the kiss, only to be met with shocked eyes.

 

She gives Stella a timid smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

 

Stella bites her lip and avoids her eyes, blatantly staring at Miss Blanche’s breasts instead. 

 

“I didn’t realize that you and Charlotte were that close.”

 

Stella flinches when she hears her name and starts to pull away. This was wrong. How could she possibly think that this was okay? She loved Charlotte, and this was a teacher, and there were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t have done it, but she did. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she realized her mistake.

 

“Stella, you’re a very beautiful girl, but--”

 

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Well, yes, but I was going to emphasize that it would probably be better if you were with someone your own age,” she said with a smirk.

 

“Wait, what?”

 

Miss Blanche stands up from her desk and moves towards Stella, kissing her again softly. 

 

“If you don’t want this, stop me right now,” Miss Blanche whispers, placing her hands on Stella’s hips. 

 

Stella bites her cheek in concentration, thinking about it. On the one hand, this could possibly result it something temporary, but wonderful. On the other hand, if they got caught, there would be so many consequences, including her own feelings. What would she have to lose? But then, she remembered Charlotte, and the guilt she felt when she slept with the theater teacher, and how Stella thought that she would never be cable of doing the same thing. And how proud of Charlotte she was when she stopped it. Their kiss in the hallway. And what happened after.

 

Stella shakes her head. “I change my mind.”

 

Miss Blanche nods with a small smile on her face, and kisses Stella’s forehead before letting her go. 

 

“Good choice.”

 

“I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

 

Miss Blanche chuckles as she moves to sit behind her desk. “That’s okay. I just want you to pay attention in my class again.”

 

Stella nods as she heads for the door, wrenches it open and hurries down the hall.

 

When she’s a good enough distance away and the hall seems to be empty, she leans against the wall and allows herself to cry. Somehow, she can hear the echo of her sobs against the walls, wiping her tears away every few seconds. She doesn’t notice that the hall isn’t completely empty until she feels a body slide down the wall and sit down next to her. She wipes her tears away just enough to look to her side. Her eyes take in the dark brown hair, the blue green eyes, the thighs in too tight pants. His eyes are kind and he nods in understand before taking one of her hands within his own. His hands are warm, almost sweaty, and he squeezes her fingers as if trying to transfer his heat to her. 

 

“I miss her too,” he murmurs.

 

And somehow she cries harder, feeling his arms wrap around her shoulders before pressing her face into his solid chest. 


	23. Chapter 23

_ 3 years later _

She usually kisses him goodbye before he leaves her room. They don’t talk about what they do behind closed doors, and they don’t acknowledge that they know each other. Stella likes it that way. What she doesn’t like is the way he looks at her after she comes, as if she’s the world and he’s glad to have it. He looks at her, and she knows she’s going to have to break his heart. She doesn’t want to, but it’s inevitable. And somehow, from the very first day they met, Stella knew that this would happen. 

 

He doesn’t ask about the scabs and scars on her thighs. He probably doesn’t even notice, and Stella prefers it that way. She feels everything he feels when he is inside her, his happiness, his sadness, his Catholic guilt, and she knows she’s the cause of all those feelings. She feeds off that, the attention she craves, needs the release, and clings onto him for life. And then she pushes him away, and heads out to class. 

 

That’s how this situation normally goes, but today seems different. He sits on the edge of her bed as she pulls on her clothes, watching her every move, his eyes caressing her curves as she bends over to slide her shoes on. He seems lost in thought, but his eyes are trained on her body and nowhere else. She lets out a sigh, so tiny it could be mistaken as a normal breath, and turns to him. He looks up at her, and his eyes have decided they wanted to be bright blue today, instead of their usual blue green.  _ They are so beautiful _ , she can’t help but think. 

 

She walks over to him slowly, watching as his eyes follow her movement, before she’s standing between his legs.

 

“Alright?” she asks.

 

He nods his head and looks at something over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“You don’t seem like it.”

 

“Stella, what are we?”

 

Stella chews on the inside of her cheek. “What do you want us to be?”

 

He slides his hands onto her hips, and sighs. 

 

“I want to be able to acknowledge you in the hallway.”

 

“Then do it.”

 

He shakes his head. “I want to...I don’t want to say ‘show you off’ because I know you’ll punch me in the face for that, but...yeah.”

 

“So...you want me to be your girlfriend,” she says, squinting her eyes.

 

He sighs and closes his eyes. “I didn’t want to say it.”

 

“But, you thought it.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.”

 

“You could have said something.”

 

“Would it have changed your mind?” he asks, somewhat hopefully.

 

“No.”

 

He nods his head as if he already knew the answer, and looks down at his lap.

 

“I already told you what I wanted when we started this,” she says, softly, as if lowering the volume of her tone will make the statement less painful for him. 

 

He only nods again in response, and he reminds her of a broken down animatronic. 

 

“We can stop, if you want,” she suggests.

 

“I definitely don’t want that,” he responds immediately. 

 

She pats him lightly on the cheek. Of course not, he’s still a male after all. 

 

“Put your clothes on,” she says, and turns away from him.

 

She grabs her things and leaves him sitting alone and half naked on her bed, and heads to class. It’s easier to leave him sad and alone than it is to tell him just how much she’ll miss him when she’s back in London and doesn’t have anyone.


	24. Chapter 24

The day she walks across the stage and receives her diploma is very long and very hot. She feels herself sweating through her clothes from heat, but also from the waves of excitement from students and parents alike crashing continuously into her body. People all around her cheer and laugh and cry, while Stella stares diligently ahead, acknowledging no one. She doesn’t turn towards the crowd and look through the sea of faces for her family, or hear people shout her name inappropriately, like a pack of wild animals. She doesn’t need to look to know that she has no one. 

 

When they call her name, she plasters a fake smile onto her face and walks towards the headmaster as the crowd falls silent, save for a few claps. She’s fine, this is okay, being absolutely alone is okay. The headmaster congratulates her on her many honors, her extraordinary grades, how quickly she was able to catch up despite being three months late. All she wants is to go home. 

 

_ To what home? Dad is gone, mom doesn’t care. You’re going to end up back in that huge, dark, empty house, alone _ , she thinks to herself. She’s never really drank alcohol before, but right now she’s considering a large glass of something. When the ceremony ends, all the kids rush out the doors and to their parents waiting arms, while Stella stays in the back with the teachers. She catches Melissa Blanche taking off her robe before averting her eyes, and walking towards the dorms. 

 

“Stella!”

 

She hears his voice but pretends not to, keeping the same pace, trying not to look like she’s running away from him. 

 

“Stella, wait!”

 

This time it’s louder, and she can’t ignore him anymore, so she stops. Somehow he looks even taller in his robe, and she wants to take him back to her room and miss her flight back to London.

 

“Hey,” he says, smiling, “My parents and I were going to go out to dinner, do you and your family want to come with us?”

 

She doesn’t bother to tell him that no one is there for her, she never bothered to tell him she didn’t have a family. That was private. She smiles in what she hopes is a pleasant manner.

 

“Sorry, my flight back to London is in 2 hours. I have to finish packing and all that,” she says, and shrugs.

 

His smile falls and she feels his sadness added to her own.

 

“Oh. So… this is goodbye?”

 

She nods and forces herself not to tear up. “I guess so.”

 

He opens his arms in silent invitation, and she complies, burying her face against his chest. 

She can feel his breath against the top of her head before he kisses her hair. 

 

“I left my house number on your desk the other day,” he says, and squeezes her a little tighter, before pulling away.

 

“I’ll call you,” she murmurs.

 

And she almost feels guilty when he smiles because she knows that’s a lie. He doesn’t deserve to be treated the way she treats him.  _ He deserves someone better _ , she thinks.

She smiles and pats him lightly on the cheek as he says goodbye. She watches him run happy back to his parents who seemed to have watched the whole exchange and are questioning him about it. She turns away and heads back to the dorms, fear and sadness running through her weak legs, ready to go back to where she feels safe. Away from anyone else who can hurt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last official chapter of Part 2. The next chapter will be a very short epilogue that doesn't necessarily contribute to this specific story, but I wanted to add it anyway. Part 3 might take me a while to write, as I said before, but I will try my hardest to actually do it. Might need to rewatch The Fall again ;). Thank you for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

**_Epilogue_ **

The crinkle of the plastic suit is somehow soothing as Stella walks between the cars and onto the scene. There are ambulances, police cars, many officers just sitting, as if waiting for a cue to all move at once. She’s itching to get inside the house, see the body and the scene with her own eyes, but there is protocol that must be followed, which includes waiting for the pathologist. Who is late. She can feel the potential of rain in the air as she observes the surrounding townhouses and their various yards. It’s not unusual for Stella to find herself at the scene of a crime, but each time seems to be a brand new experience that sends odd shivers down her spine. Shivers of disgust, excitement, anticipation, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. Her attention to detail as her thinking about the potential murder before she can even see the body.

 

 _Female, early thirties, killed in her own home, high achieving profession, check_ , she thinks to herself.

****

Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud rumbling sound off to her right, coming from a motorcycle. Can’t see the features of the cyclist except that they are dressed head to toe in black and leather. From the form fit of the jacket, Stella can immediately tell it’s a woman.

****

_Hmm, interesting_ , she thinks to herself.

****

She watches the motorcycle pull over to the side in front of the crime scene as the man next to her says, “That’s Professor Reed-Smith. She’s the pathologist.”

****

She looks between the man next to her, and evaluates the woman again through her black outfit. She can’t help but notice that this Professor Reed-Smith has a fantastic body. She can almost forgive her for taking so long to arrive.

****

“Ask her to meet us at the command vehicle,” she says, and starts to walk away.

****

She watches as the pathologist pulls her helmet off, long black hair cascading down her back, framing olive toned skin. And suddenly her pulse quickens.

****

_Charlotte?_

****

The facial features are slightly different, but this woman could be Charlotte’s sister. An odd wave of nostalgia and love almost bowls her over, and she digs her nails into her palms to keep herself on track. She wants to go to her, ask her if it’s really her, kiss her hard on the mouth and take her back to her hotel room. But it isn’t her. Stella would know, she memorized every feature of Charlotte’s face in the months that she knew her. She tears her eyes away from the pathologist and instead trains her eyes on Dani, blocking out the last words Charlotte ever said to her.


End file.
